


First Impressions don't last forever

by ChocoNut



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Modern Westeros, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, loads of fluff as the story goes by, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 68,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Brienne Tarth is a key person in the Core Banking Solution (CBS) team in Westeros International Software Ltd with many coveted projects to her credit. She is expected to co-lead a team with Jaime Lannister, an ex-member of the Internet Banking (IB) team. He is exceptionally brilliant, but with a tainted reputation. He's an arrogant pain in the ass, and she is as simple and straightforward as one can be. She hates him from the moment she meets him, and he is only too happy to reciprocate her feelings.So do they get along to complete the project successfully?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A confession - this is my first attempt at Mod-AU  
> Another confession - this story is inspired by real life - mine.
> 
> Thank you renee561 for motivating me to tell this story!
> 
> Some abbreviations that I'll be frequently using:  
> Core Banking Solutions (CBS) : Typically the entirety of Retail banking, forming the backbone of any banking software architecture  
> Internet Banking (IB) : Online or channel banking

“Come in, Brienne.” Robert Baratheon rubbed his eyes, giving her a tired look, as Brienne Tarth stepped into his office, slightly apprehensive about what was to come. It wasn’t often that her boss asked to meet her at 6 p.m on a friday. 

Brienne was one of the consistent performers of Westeros International Software Limited, a top tier Multinational company in Westeros, based out of King’s Landing. They provided software solutions for banking and insurance domains, with Retail banking being their primary business. She was part of the Retail Banking core team, and was just back from a successful implementation of their software in one of the top banks of the country-The Golden bank in Dragonstone. 

“Sit down, this is going to take a while,” her boss gestured to the chair in front of him. Brienne did as instructed, waiting for him to spill the beans. 

“I have been having discussions with the sales team over the last few days. A long-awaited deal has just come through. I am glad to inform you that we have now gone truly multinational by securing our first overseas client,” Robert announced, smiling proudly “Iron Bank of Braavos has finally signed the contract. I’m sure you may have heard of it, courtesy the office grapevine floating around for days now, but I thought of informing you officially.” 

Brienne nodded, she already knew all this, but had no clue about how this was going to impact her. She could take a wild guess, but she knew better than to expect too much for fear of being disappointed, if her hunch turned out to be off target. 

“There is a massive quantum of work chalked out for the next year or two, roughly amounting to an effort of about 7000-8000 person-days. I have been chosen to front-end this prestigious project,” he said, giving her a huge grin “You will be onboard from Monday.” 

“Thank you,” Brienne was elated, making a desperate effort to restrain herself from jumping up and down in her excitement. 

“You will be reporting to me, and will have a small team working with you to begin with. We can do the further resource planning based on the actual work estimation,” Robert went on “Apart from you, there will be a few other module leads as well, who are being roped in from other teams.” 

“That is fantastic news, boss!” Brienne exclaimed “If I may ask, who would my co-leads be?”

“As of now, I have Renly and a couple of others in mind along with--” 

“Renly?” her heart skipped a beat on hearing that name “But isn’t that a policy violation?” Brienne was surprised at the inclusion of Robert’s handsome brother. Siblings and spouses were generally not allowed to work on the same project. 

“Usually,” Robert agreed “But this project is an exception, so the necessary approvals have been taken care of. We will also have Jaime Lannister joining us.”

“Jaime Lannister? Isn’t he the guy who--” Brienne couldn’t help interrupting. She had heard the name before. 

“Yes, he is from the Internet banking division,” Brienne’s frown didn’t go unnoticed, which led to Robert explaining further “And yes, the so-called rumours about him are right, unfortunately. Between the two of us, Brienne--” Robert paused for a second, looking slightly uneasy about sharing such sensitive information “--he was the one who botched the project, almost costing the company the deal, but the management still want to retain him. They have decided to move him out of IB, and accommodate him in core banking instead.” 

“Internet Banking is an entirely different ball game,” she argued “Why induct him here, when he has zero module experience? What does he know about how a bank functions, and their operations?”

“The man is a highly skilled technical expert, and his fifteen year experience in the area is no mean feat. But for this controversy, Aerys is quite impressed with him, and feels he should be given a chance. He has been the go-to guy for IB all these years,” Robert said “But his ex-bosses aren’t too happy with him for obvious reasons, so we have no other option but to absorb him here, and if he has to work with us, he has to learn the intricacies of CBS.” 

Aerys Targaryen was their CEO, and if he wanted Jaime in the organization, then there was nothing anyone else could say or do against it.

“As long as he stays away from me, I don’t think I’ll have a problem _,_ ” she muttered inaudibly, her initial enthusiasm dampened by the idea of working with this Lannister guy. 

“I’m going to tag him with you,” Robert said slowly.

“What?” Brienne was shocked. That would be stretching things a bit too far. As if working in the same team wasn’t punishment enough, actually interacting with this man on a day-to-day basis could turn out to be her worst nightmare come true. 

“I am afraid, you'll have to put up with it, Brienne,” Robert declared, indicating the end of the topic. 

Brienne nodded reluctantly, she had never met this Jaime Lannister before, but his reputation was bad enough for her to form an opinion about him. She instantly decided that she would have a tough time getting along with him-anyone with screwed up morals scored very low in her books. 

The solitary silver lining in her cloud was Renly Baratheon. The only good looking guy in the entire office, and the only one who had been nice to her. Brienne tried to suppress a smile-perhaps there was a one in a million chance that this new project may turn out to be the best experience of her life. Renly was her tiny ray of light in the darkness that would be Jaime Lannister.

“Here’s the team structure for your perusal.” Robert handed her a printout. 

**Retail Banking Implementation for Iron Bank of Braavos**

**Project Manager : Robert Baratheon**

**Module Teams :**

  * **Deposits : Brienne Tarth/Jaime Lannister**


    1. Sansa Stark
    2. Ygritte
    3. Gendry Waters


  * **Branch Operations : Renly Baratheon**


    1. Loras Tyrell
    2. Bronn Blackwater
    3. Lancel Lannister


  * **Loans and Overdrafts : Jon Snow**


    1. Tormund Giantsbane
    2. Lyanna Mormont
    3. Samwell Tarly


  * **Payments and Settlements : Tyrion Lannister**


    1. Sandor Clegane
    2. Podrick Payne
    3. Theon Greyjoy       



Brienne’s heart sank as she skimmed through the sheet “I have to manage a team along with this--” she tried not to sound whiny, but her tone betrayed her “--this Jaime Lannister?” 

“I understand how you feel,” Robert said sympathetically “But it's better you accept the fact, and try to get along with him. He is senior enough to be your boss.”

“That is exactly the problem!” Brienne voiced her concern “I don't think he would particularly relish taking instructions from me. And if he has to learn from me, then he has to--”

“That’s something I’ll leave you two to work out,” Robert said, waving a hand dismissively “Both of you are responsible adults and experienced in your respective fields, and I am sure you will find a way.”

“Very well, sir,” Brienne said in a low voice.

“I’ll call for a team meeting on Monday, and we’ll see how to take it from there. That’s all, Brienne, have a good weekend,” Robert smiled at her, indicating the end of the meeting. 

Brienne packed up, and as she got into the elevator, she wondered about the coming weekend. Socially awkward and an introvert, she spent most weekends at home, absorbed in her books or curled up in bed watching TV. Brienne lived alone. Her father was her only family, and though she visited him occasionally, Tarth was not a trip she made frequently. She usually kept to herself, and had very few friends. Sansa Stark was the only one at work she opened up to. 

She was unmarried and had no boyfriend, just a few failed relationships in the past-three to be precise. These experiences led her to the firm belief that being single was any day better than answering to a man who assumed he was better than you by virtue of his sex. At 6’3”, she was quite ordinary, even ugly by some standards, with short blond hair and broad shoulders. She was far from the type men preferred, pretty and delicate were not the adjectives anyone with proper eyesight would associate with her. Men steered clear of her, and she didn’t mind returning the favour. It worked out better that way. 

That was until she ran into Renly Baratheon. Renly was Robert’s younger brother, but he couldn’t have been more different in comparison. While Robert was obese, Renly was lean, trim and handsome. Robert could be crude at times, but Renly was sophistication personified. She had been completely smitten with him at a party, where she had first met him a year ago. He had been among the few to approach her and converse with her, while she stood all alone in a corner, being the only woman without a date that evening. When one of the inebriated men had attempted to insult her, it was Renly who had come to her defence. He had been a delightful gentleman, offering to be her date for the rest of the evening, and escorting her back home. The effect of the evening was a sleepless night, her head full of the handsome young man who had been her knight in shining armour. 

But her excitement had been short lived. Having subsequently moved to a different project, she scarcely met Renly after that, and he too seemed to have forgotten about her. Resigned to the fact that a handsome fellow like him wouldn’t bother sparing her a second look, she had been content with admiring him in secret. But today’s developments had lifted her spirits. They would be working in the same team, and well, one could never guess what that might lead to. She could hope for the best, couldn’t she? 

Jaime Lannister, no doubt, was going to be a pain in the ass. From what she knew about the guy, he had messed up big time with his last project, almost compromising confidential information to a rival. Why in the world did they even bother giving him another chance? The man deserved to be sacked. She groaned to herself; she would have to grin and bear with him for a couple of years at the very least-give or take a few weeks. 8000 pds of work meant a minimum of that much time with the fifteen member team that they had. 

On the positive front, she was quite keen to get to know and work with her new team. She had known Sansa Stark for a couple of years now, and while Sansa had never been the super-brilliant type, she was a decent learner, though a bit slow. She was a valuable asset to have, if trained properly. More a friend than a subordinate, Brienne found it easy to work with the girl. Young blood and enthusiasm were always welcome for a gruelling project where the team had to put in a minimum of 12-14 hours of work a day. 

Life was going to be maddening again, but Brienne didn’t mind it. She loved working like crazy. Having nothing else to do with her time, she was a workaholic, taking work home even on weekends for lack of anything better to do. If not anything else, this schedule would keep her occupied and diverted from her father’s nagging. Like any normal father, Selwyn Tarth wanted his only daughter to get married and settle down. He had made all the efforts from his side to see to that, but all the three times he had failed miserably. Now, despite having given up on matchmaking, he couldn’t resist trying to advise her every time he called her or whenever she visited home.

As far as the rest of her prospective team was concerned, she had met Gendry a couple of times, but had no clue about Ygritte, though she was pretty sure that almost anyone would be better than that dishonourable Lannister. 

+++++

The team had assembled in the conference room on the tenth floor at 9 a.m sharp on Monday morning. While they waited for the boss, Brienne glanced around the room, sipping her coffee. She knew Sansa, Jon, Theon and Gendry apart from Renly. But who was the little guy with intelligent green eyes who sat next to Sansa?

“I’m Tyrion Lannister,” the dwarf walked across to her side of the table, and introduced himself “You must be Brienne Tarth. I have heard about you. I am so glad to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Brienne said with a smile “Are you …” she wondered if he was related to Jaime Lannister. 

“Yes, I am Jaime’s brother,” Tyrion said, as if he had read her mind. 

“And your brother--” 

“--Should have arrived by now,” Tyrion said with a hint of irritation in his voice “Though I'm not surprised by his absence. Late as usual. Stuck in traffic, I suppose.” 

Brienne said nothing, her disapproval of Jaime Lannister exponentially increasing every minute. Anyone who didn’t bother to show up on time for a project kick-off meeting didn’t deserve to be a part of the project.

Before Tyrion could introduce the remaining members of the team who were unknown to her, they were interrupted by Robert’s arrival. 

“Good morning, friends,” Robert began, giving them a patronising smile as he proceeded to brief them about the details of the project, their roles and the team hierarchy.They reached the part where everyone had to introduce themselves for the benefit of those who didn’t know them. 

The handsome young man with curly blond hair was Loras Tyrell, and Brienne’s attention was drawn to Sansa who had been eyeing him longingly all along. Had she even been listening to the boss? Brienne was going to have a tough time managing the girl’s distractions, if she had to get any work out of her. Ygritte was the pretty, but casually dressed redhead sitting three seats away from her, and the roguish guy with the beard and the devil-may-care look on his face was called Bronn. 

Lyanna Mormont was the youngest in the team, a kid-fresh out of college. The girl was yet to prove herself, but spoke with such impressive confidence that Brienne couldn’t help liking her. Samwell Tarly was the overweight, uncomfortable looking fellow with a perennially nervous expression on his face-almost as if he had been forced into this life. And the wild looking huge guy with the red hair and bushy beard who had been staring at her for a long time was Tormund Giantsbane. The look in his eyes made Brienne uncomfortable, and she made a mental note to stay away from him. Sandor Clegane was the guy with the huge burn scar on his face, and the timid looking boy who sat next to him introduced himself as Podrick Payne. 

The only one left was Lancel Lannister, Tyrion’s cousin, who was the pale looking boy who kept glancing at the door nervously. Was the entire Lannister family employed here? 

“Excuse me!”

The door opened, and there he was, striding into the room like a fashionably late celebrity entering a party hosted in his honour. Tall, well built and in his late thirties, Jaime Lannister was not exactly bad looking. He was just about an inch shorter than her. He had striking green eyes, a wave of blond hair-slightly longer than normal, and a stubble covering his jawline. Brienne rolled her eyes in distaste. How long had it been since he had shaved, or cut his hair? Had he been well groomed, he would’ve been decently good looking. 

Not bothering to apologize for walking in so late, Jaime took the only vacant chair right across the table, opposite to Brienne. 

“You missed the introductions,” Robert said, clearly irritated by his attitude. 

“I’m Jaime Lannister, I guess most of you already know me,” he said smoothly, as though expecting his audience to immediately stand up and bow to him. Brienne couldn’t take her eyes off him, not because she was captivated by his looks, but because she found it hard to believe that people with such profound levels of arrogance actually existed.

The rest of the meeting went on without further ado, and once done they were about to disperse, when Robert signalled to Jaime and Brienne to hang around for a bit. 

“Jaime,” Robert began “This is Brienne Tarth, and since you missed the start of the meeting, you need to know that you will be working with her to learn the Deposits module--”

“With her?” Jaime blurted out, looking at Brienne for the first time since he had arrived.

Obviously he didn’t think her worthy of any attention. 

“Yes,” Robert said firmly. 

“Why am I not given a separate team?” Jaime asked, looking at her condescendingly “After sticking around for fifteen years in this company, I am pretty sure, I can manage a team single handed.”

“As you know, Jaime, you come from a technical background and lack domain expertise--” Robert tried to reason with him. 

“That doesn’t mean--” Jaime interrupted, but Robert raised a hand to stop him.

“You are a Java and database expert, but what do you know about core business processes in a bank? Are you aware of how extensively feature-rich and complex our software is?”

“I can learn,” Jaime said confidently. Or was it overconfidence?

“Yes, but it’s not easy,” Robert explained patiently “Having worked on IB for years, primarily interfacing with CBS, you now need to get a grip on the functional aspects of banking. You have to understand the underlying nuances of our system, the transaction workflow once a payment hits an account, interest processing, balance sheets and reporting, deposit and loan life cycle…”

“Give me some time, and I am sure I’ll learn by myself. All I need is some exposure and the time to get my hands dirty with the software, not--” he threw Brienne a dirty look, then added “--not some _teacher_ who has to sit and coach me!”

“Brienne has been working on deposits for nearly eight years now,” Robert jumped to her defence “So I am sure, she can be safely considered an expert. As for you getting your hands dirty with the software, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time for that, but Brienne will be around to correct you and supervise your work.” 

Jaime glared at her, but she refused to look away, staring back at him defiantly.

“So that’s it then, both of you,” Robert concluded, his patience finally worn out “I hope you settle your differences soon, and work in peace towards our common goal like two mature adults.” 

Robert made his way to the exit, and Jaime followed him wordlessly, still fuming. He turned around, and flashed her an intimidating glare one last time before he left. Brienne sighed, the next couple of years were going to be hell! This man was going to ensure that for her. But it was all a part and parcel of her job, and she had to do it, if she wanted to work on this project. 

Just two years, she consoled herself, and then she would never have to look at his smug face again. Besides, she had Renly’s company to look forward to. So things may not be that bad, after all. Focussing on the positive, she left, gearing up to schedule the first meeting with her team.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime tries to put her down, but ends up getting a taste of his own medicine.

“Is that a woman?” Jaime commented, as Brienne hurried passed them during their coffee break. He was yet to come across anyone as un-ladylike as her. She was mannish to the extent that even Loras Tyrell looked like a girl in comparison.

“Stop being rude, Jaime,” Tyrion admonished him softly “She is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I’m sure you are simply prejudiced by your preconceived notions about her.”

“I am not,” Jaime argued “Put yourself in my shoes, if you were forced to report to someone nearly half your experience, how would you react?”

“You will not be reporting to her. You’re just exaggerating,” Tyrion corrected his brother.

“Technically, you’re right. But she is still going to be bossing me around every single day,” he groaned, the thought itself demotivating enough to put him off work “That is going to be terrible.”

Jaime could find nothing to criticise her about, apart from her physical appearance, so he went on, making up his mind to use that as an excuse to vent out his frustration.

“I have never seen anyone as ugly as her. Taller than me and broad-shouldered, she even walks in an awkward fashion,” he remarked, giving Tyrion a sour look “And look at the number of freckles on her face, I’m sure there must be atleast fifty.”

“This is not a Miss.Universe contest, Jaime,” Tyrion objected “She doesn’t have to be beautiful. You need to refrain from comparing every woman you meet with Cersei.”

“What did we agree on?” Jaime hissed, lowering his voice “No discussions at work about Cersei.” Cersei was their cousin, and Jaime’s lover who worked with Iron Bank of Braavos. His father Tywin didn’t approve of their affair, and in an attempt to keep them apart as much as possible, Tywin had volunteered to get her a job in Braavos using his influence. She was one of the reasons for Jaime to put up with this project. Within a year, he aimed to travel to the client’s location for the onsite implementation. That way, he would be killing two birds with one stone-reviving his lacklustre career while simultaneously staying close to the woman he loved.

Tyrion nodded. “Fine, I won’t talk about Cersei. But you need to quit whining about Brienne. As long as she is good at her job--” he paused abruptly, peering closely at Jaime “By the way, why have you been observing her this closely? I thought you didn't like her.”

Jaime flushed, his keen observation of the woman taking even him by surprise.

“She was seated right in front of me in the meeting,” he explained, adopting a defensive stance “When someone is in your line of vision, you normally tend to look at them. That’s human tendency.”

“I don’t count the freckles adorning random women’s faces!” Tyrion quipped, giving him a sly look “And I happen to be human.”

“I didn’t count, Tyrion. That was just an estimate,” Jaime made a futile attempt to cover up his stupidity.

“Do you always _estimate_ people’s freckles?” Tyrion’s sharp eyes were still fixed on his “Odd though, I didn’t know, you could notice her freckles from such a distance. Or did you manage to get close enough to her after the meeting?”

“Certainly not,” Jaime quickly denied it, appalled at the idea “I have good eyesight, and I tend to...observe. Not just her looks, she seems to be the boss’s favourite, his yes-man--” he paused for effect at his deliberate mistake “Sorry, his _yes-woman_ , loyal to him, agreeing with every bit of nonsense that he comes up with.”

“That’s a little unfair, Jaime. You barely know her, you haven’t even spoken to her,” Tyrion chided him again “How could you jump into such unpleasant conclusions about her? I’ve heard that the general feedback about her is quite favourable. She has proven herself to be an excellent team player.”

“Which reminds me,” Jaime made a face again “I have a meeting in some time.”

“Then you better make sure you’re on time,” Tyrion warned “Brienne doesn’t approve of people turning up late to meetings or appointments. She is a stickler for punctuality.”

“Why should I care about her approval?” Jaime said haughtily. Nevertheless, he bid Tyrion goodbye, and made his way to the conference room about fifteen minutes prior to the scheduled time slot. He found Brienne standing there alone, struggling with the projector.

“Need help?” he called out, absolutely certain that this was beyond her capability.

“I can manage, thank you,” she replied, not bothering to look at him.

“The wire in your hand goes into that port,” Jaime said mockingly.

Brienne turned around, her face flushed with indignation “I told you, I can do it myself, Mr. Lannister--”

“Jaime,” he said, throwing her a smirk “My name’s Jaime. And no offence ma’am, I was just trying to help.”

“I prefer to be called Brienne,” she retorted “I have done enough presentations to be able to connect a projector on my own, Jaime.” She turned to the device, and resumed fiddling with it again.

Jaime stood in a corner, leaning against the wall, watching her in silent amusement. Whether she knew what she was doing or not, she exuded confidence. He had to give her credit for that.

He observed her for about five minutes, and when the projector still failed to start, leaving her fretting and fuming at it, he walked across to her and tapped her on the shoulder lightly.

“What?” her tone was full of irritation.

“I told you,” he whispered, leaning closer and taking the wire from her hand, his fingers inadvertently brushing against hers “That end fits here. If only you had listened to me, we could’ve saved five precious minutes, wench.” Within seconds, he had fired up the projector, and when her laptop was mirrored successfully on the whiteboard, he gave her a smug look, satisfied that he had scored his first point against her. Momentarily enjoying the faint blush of embarrassment on her cheeks, he returned to his original spot by the wall, settling down to watch her antics again.

“Wench?” she repeated in disbelief, only now registering the word “Where the hell did you pick that up from? Have you been watching some medieval movie?”

“No,” he said, having no clue how or why it had come to his mind “I just thought it suited you.”

“My name is Brienne--”

“I know,” he interrupted, grinning at her, realizing that he was beginning to relish getting her all bothered and angry “But I have decided to call you wench.” The look on her face when he had addressed her as ‘wench’ had been priceless.

“You will not call me that,” her eyes flashed fire, as she tried not to raise her voice.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call you wench only when we are alone,” he reassured her, smiling mischievously. He had just happened to notice that her eyes were the only saving grace on her face. And he had to admit, he had never seen such remarkably beautiful eyes before.

He saw her face turn slightly pink at his remark. Was it anger? He couldn’t tell, and he didn’t care.

“Are you married, wench?” he found himself asking her.

“What the hell--” she looked at him in horror, unable to finish what she was about to say.

“I presumed not,” he went on, unsurprised “Boyfriend?”

“No!”

“Girlfriend, then?” Well that was mostly off the hook, but he still had to know.

“None of your business,” she snapped, facing her laptop again.

No husband, no lover...no wonder she was always angry and irritated with the world. All she needed was a partner, and some good sex to cheer her up. The thought of sex reminded him of Cersei, and how much he missed her.

But why the hell was he so keen on finding out about this woman? Academic curiosity, he decided. He had to know about his teammates to a decent extent if he had to spend the next couple of years in their company.

“If you don’t want to talk about yourself, why don’t you tell me about the rest of the team? As you know, I missed the introductions this morning,” he asked, trying another approach “Who was the guy you couldn’t stop staring at? The handsome one with the beard, the dude who had come wearing that ridiculous embroidered shirt--”

“What?” she spun around, once again thrown completely off-guard by his question “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ofcourse you know _who_ I am talking about,” he teased “Come on, tell me. What’s his name?”

“Renly Baratheon,” she mumbled, blushing.

“Ah, the boss’s brother,” Jaime remarked, his eyes lingering on her face a second longer than necessary, watching her blush. His guess was bang on target. She did have a crush on this pretty boy Renly. But what the hell was so special about him?

Brienne said nothing, and went back to her laptop ignoring his comment. Quickly opening a notepad window, she started typing furiously, the outcome being complete gibberish.

Jaime burst out laughing. “I can see your screen, wench,” he said, pointing to the whiteboard “Stop pretending to be busy. It’s going to be difficult trying to avoid me, now that we have to see each other’s faces for a good part of our day, every single day.”

Still blushing, she promptly closed the notepad of nonsense and switched to her powerpoint.

“Where were we?” he resumed “Yes, you were saying something about Renly. Go on, I’m eagerly waiting.”

Before she could angrily tell him to shut up, the others in the team poured in. Jaime looked at his watch, it was time for them to get back to business. Soon Brienne began briefing them about the kind of work they could expect.

“As of now, I just have the list of items to be developed by us,” she explained, drawing up an excel sheet on the screen “Once Jaime and I have completed the solution and design for each, these would be divided and allocated to each of you for coding.”

Jaime had to agree that she did have a commanding presence. The team listened to her in rapt attention, absorbing every word of what she spoke, noting down every little instruction. The girl called Sansa seemed to be the most comfortable among the trio. Probably one of Brienne’s ex-teammates, he surmised.

“That will be all for now,” she concluded, once she had finished her briefing “Unless you have any further questions. Till the time either of us assigns something to you, I would urge you to work out the practice assignments in the intranet link shared with you earlier.”

As the kids got up to leave, she called out to him “Jaime, if you could please stay back for a while.”

“At your service, ma’am,” he said politely, bowing his head, earning another irate look from her. He could swear, he heard the youngsters snigger at his comment as they hurried away to their workstations.

“What do you think you are doing?” Brienne lashed out at him as soon as they were alone in the room.

“Nothing,” he gave her an innocent look “I’m just trying to be friendly. We have to put up with each other for a long time, Brienne, so why not get to know one another?”

“Not interested,” she flashed him a look full of loathing “And I’d be grateful, if we can start with work at once.” She proceeded to divide the requirements in her list equally between the two of them.

“Are you going to just assign work to me without even consulting me?” he was irritated “Don’t I get a say in it?”

“I am earmarking some of the simplest ones for you first,” she explained “Start easy, and then we can slowly build up on the complexity.”

“Simplest ones?” he scoffed “I don't do simple. Simple is for kids.”

“Fine,” she pushed the laptop towards him “Pick and choose. Which one do you want to go for first?”

Jaime scrolled through the sheet, and brought the cursor to one of the cells marked ‘ _Peer-to-peer accounting in a branch hierarchy_ ’ “I’ll take this one first,” he announced confidently, having absolutely no clue about what it meant. But it sounded complex, which meant he would go for it. He had to prove himself to this woman and his boss, and what better way to do it?

“Really?” she narrowed her brows “Are you aware of the accounting entries for an Inter-branch transaction?”

“No,” he shook his head “But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn.” he said defiantly “I’ll google it and find out. Google these days has answers to everything.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have some books and PDFs. You can go through them to understand the accounting concepts, and--” she pursed her lips, slightly hesitating “You can always ask me, if you need any help.”

_I’d rather google, than admit to you that I know nothing about accounting._

“I want to do a walk-through of some of your code,” he declared out of the blue, desperate to shake the feeling of uselessness in his mind that was gradually rising as he spent more and more time in her company “To see if the necessary conventions and standards are being followed.”

“ _Our_ code,” she corrected him “You’re part of this team now. Ofcourse, you are most welcome to review the source code, but let me warn you-the conventions that we follow here are very different from what you have been accustomed to in IB.”

“How much do you know about the underlying architecture? Do you really think you are qualified to comment on coding standards?” he questioned. What did she know about technology? Who was she to doubt his judgement?

“I know enough to make sure that my work goes on smoothly,” she said coldly.

“Okay, let’s see then,” he racked his brain for something technically challenging that would unsettle her, shake her annoying overconfidence.

“I have heard that most of your business logic has been written on the database layer,” he fixed his eyes on hers, trying to intimidate her “So tell me, wench, what is a better approach to manage huge data - single row processing or bulk?”

“It depends on the customer base and account volume of the bank,” she answered, unaffected by his piercing stare “Not to mention the transaction volume as well. So it has to be a case by case decision. But most of the times, bulk processing works better.”

 _Not too bad, for a wench with little, or no technical expertise._ He fired a few more questions at her, each of which she answered accurately, much to his irritation.

“Are you trying to belittle me?” she sounded hurt after answering the tenth question he had tried to attack her with. Not having expected such perfect answers from her, he had to reluctantly accept that he was mildly impressed by her knowledge.

“No, I just wanted to assess if you are technically any good,” he said, wondering what he had done wrong “To work together, it is important that we help each other. To do that, we ought to know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, right?”

“I don’t need your help,” she said stubbornly “It is your accounting skills that need polishing.”

“Oh, that’ll be a cakewalk,” he said dismissively “All I have to do is some bit of reading, and I’ll be good to go.”

“Okay then, let’s see,” she said, mimicking his mocking tone “Do you know how a cash deposit transaction works?”

“Cash deposits have nothing to do with Internet Banking, but it’s common sense, isn’t it?” Jaime said confidently “You credit the account and--” to his surprise, he paused, clueless about where the debit would go.

“Yes?” Brienne prompted “You credit the customer’s account with the deposit amount, which is common sense. That’s something even a child can answer. But, what happens to the debit leg?”

“Er…” he hesitated, obviously unaware of it.

“I do hope you are aware, that for every credit there has to be an equal debit,”  Brienne went on “Else the books won’t be balanced. Basics of accounting--”

“You underestimate me, Brienne,” Jaime interrupted, furious with himself for his ignorance, and her ability to get on his nerves.

“I’m just trying to assess if you are any good at accounting, which is the key component of most of our modules,” she said in the same condescending tone that he had used earlier  “So why don’t you tell me what happens to the debit in this transaction?”

“Cash deposits have no relation to Internet or channel banking,” he argued. It was true. Channel banking was not concerned with the internal accounting and other nitty-gritties of the bank. Seamless transaction processing, quick online response time and an impressive user interface were the primary aspects of IB. Those were his areas of expertise. Matching credits with debits was something bankers did, not software engineers.

“Let me try another question,” Brienne refused to leave him in peace “For a cash withdrawal at an ATM, which is an electronic self-service channel, if the customer’s account is debited, where would the credit go?”

“Some internal account,” Jaime racked his brain, trying to remember what it was called “As I said, any non-branch channel is customer facing, so the credit part of a withdrawal is not really important to us.”

“Which is a polished way of saying that you don’t know, am I correct?” she asked innocently.

“Hmm,” he mumbled grumpily, accepting defeat, hating her all the more every second.

“I suppose, we have to start with basics then,” Brienne said wearily “Why don’t we have an hour’s session every morning where you tell me what you have understood from your previous day’s reading?”

“Fine,” he said angrily, storming out of the meeting room, never having felt more humiliated in his life before. What did she think of herself? If she thought he was going to beg her for help, then she was grossly mistaken. Even if he had to spend sleepless nights pouring over books and learning by himself, he would. He was not going to give her another chance to ridicule his ignorance.

Getting himself another cup of coffee, he settled down at his desk, mentally preparing himself to plough through the mountain of books that Brienne had shortlisted for him.

It was going to be a long and hard time ahead, and this Tarth woman was bent upon making life hell for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you won't probably believe me, but almost every line of the argument is exactly what happened in the earlier days of working together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of them try to put their differences aside and make a sincere effort to work together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Warning!

As the days rolled into weeks, and weeks into months, Brienne found herself spending increasing periods of productive time with Jaime. They had drawn up schedules for each requirement, and if they had to meet the deadline, it was imperative that they worked against the clock. Taking into account Jaime’s lousy subject knowledge, if they didn’t put in at least twelve hours a day, they would never be able to finish.

This was now her fate, spending the entire day cooped up in a meeting room, her sole companion being the man whose presence she couldn’t stand. _What had life come to?_

They had chosen to exile themselves to a meeting room for fear of disturbing the rest of the team if they worked at their desks. Most of the times, their debates and their voices got loud and heated, and their arguments were generally not suitable for public consumption. They were so absorbed in work, that Brienne couldn’t even spare a few minutes to catch up with Sansa for their little chats over coffee. Coffee these days was always with Jaime, with either Brienne explaining some concept to him, or the two of them pointlessly arguing over some obscure regulation which Jaime decided to dismiss as ridiculous.

“I’ve always felt, for the reversal of a credit transaction, we should show a debit of the same amount in the customer’s statement,” Jaime argued one day “Why the hell do we display a credit with a negative sign?”

“That’s convention, Jaime,” Brienne tried to explain “That’s how most banks do it.”

“I disagree,” he objected “It sounds absurd.”

“A negative sign indicates that a transaction has been undone,” Brienne tried to keep her patience “A plain debit would signify a regular transaction, not a reversal.”

“You could always make out which is what from the description text!” he went on, unwilling to give up.

“You probably have a point,” she conceded “But if we continue to debate about this, we would have to stay back all night to meet our target for the day.” She rubbed her eyes wearily.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” Jaime muttered.

 _There goes his sarcasm as usual!_ Brienne cursed her fate for being punished with endless hours of being locked up in solitary confinement with this man.

He added quickly, before she could say anything “I mean, if the deadlines demand long hours, then we would have no choice but to stretch.”

The next few minutes went by, with both of them working silently.

“I need a smoke,” he announced abruptly, and got up from his chair.

“What? So soon?” Brienne exclaimed, horrified with the number of times he smoked in a day “You just had a smoke an hour ago.”

“I know, but I need another. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in ten minutes,” he assured.

“Would it be asking for too much, if I requested you to minimise these breaks?” Brienne asked politely, irritated with the valuable time being wasted in all this.

“Why? Do you miss me when I’m away, wench?” he asked, giving her a charming smile that lit up his handsome features.

_Since when did she start associating adjectives like charming or handsome with him?_

“Not even in my dreams,” she said vehemently, her face growing hot at the very possibility of such a thing happening “I was just mentally calculating the time wasted daily thanks to these breaks of yours, plus…” she hesitated, contemplating whether to tell him or not “You seem to be a chain smoker. So much of tobacco is not good for your health-I don’t think, I need to educate you on the potential hazards of nicotine poisoning.”

Jaime narrowed his brows and looked at her intently, his bright green eyes piercing her like an arrow. At once she felt uncomfortable. She had probably crossed a line. What he did with his life was none of her business.

“I’m sorry, I should not have said all that,” she blurted out “I didn’t mean to pry. Your personal habits are none of my business. I meant no offence.”

“Don’t be sorry. No offence taken,” he said, his tone unusually soft “I just… you’re right, but I can’t do without it. I’ll be back in exactly ten minutes, I promise.”

He left the room, leaving Brienne staring after him. Where was his trademark sarcasm when she had most expected it? Anticipation a cutting remark as a response to her lecture on the health hazards of smoking, she was completely taken aback by his oddly calm reaction.

+++++

“Look at you!” Sansa exclaimed, catching Brienne unawares at the parking lot, as she hurried towards the elevator “You don’t even speak to your team these days. It’s becoming a rare sight to find you by yourself these days.”

“I’m sorry, Sansa,” Brienne felt slightly guilty “I know, I have not been able to devote much time to the team these days. Most of my day is spent guiding Jaime. He’s my peer, but I’m indirectly responsible for the quality of his work too.”

“I understand,” Sansa nodded “That’s not what I meant. I can help Ygritte and Gendry come up the curve. I meant you.” she gave Brienne a worried look.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Brienne sighed, mentally preparing herself for another long and tiring day “But in case you or the team need anything, you know where to find me.”

“I am worried about your health, Brienne.”

“Thank you,” Brienne gave her a warm smile. It was always nice to know that someone cared about you. “Just a couple of months, and that will bring us to the end of the development phase. After that, Jaime can work independently, as I am guessing, he would most likely travel to the client’s location.”

“Are we travelling to Braavos then?” Sansa asked, her voice laced with excitement. Only two years into her career, the girl had never experienced a client implementation before. Brienne could understand her eagerness.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said “Though, I am going to put in a recommendation for you folks. They need a huge army out there, and I’m sure all of you will be required.”

“Why don’t you want to go?” Sansa inquired, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Brienne smiled again “Let’s just say, I’ve done too many client facing projects. I need a break, and some stability in my life. If you do happen to travel, you will be reporting to Jaime, since I won’t be around--”

“That Lannister?” Sansa grimaced “Now that’s a pleasant experience to look forward to.” she said sourly.

“He’s not that bad, you know,” Brienne jumped to his defence, before she could stop herself “He could be your future boss. Stop talking about him like that.”

“Not that bad, is it?” Sansa repeated thoughtfully, focussing all her attention to Brienne’s face “I thought you hated him.”

“I don’t… hate him,” Brienne searched for the right words, but none seem to come to her mind “I don’t hate anyone. Hate is a very strong emotion--”

“I remember you telling me that you hated him,” Sansa ploughed on mercilessly “The day of the meeting, if I am not mistaken.”

“Well, I don’t exactly hate him,” Brienne tried to explain, unsure of her current opinion about him “I still find him intolerable, that’s for sure.”

“Hmmmm,” was the only response from Sansa, leaving Brienne wondering what was in the girl’s mind.

“But I have to admit, he is gorgeous, don’t you think, Brienne?”

Brienne was saved from answering the awkward question when the elevator pinged, the door opening to let Renly and Loras in.

“Hey Brienne!” Renly addressed her, giving her a bright smile and nodding at Sansa. Brienne’s heart soared. She acknowledged his greeting with a shy ‘Good Morning’, and tried not to look at Sansa, whose reaction she could clearly picture in her mind’s eye. After all, it wasn’t everyday that Sansa bumped into Loras Tyrell.

As soon as the men got out on the first floor, presumably off to the panty for a quick breakfast, Sansa began giggling uncontrollably.

“What’s the matter with you?” Brienne asked, irritated.

“He just said hello, and you’re still blushing like crazy, even after he’s long gone,” Sansa managed, in between her fit of giggles “You do have a crush on Renly. My hunch was right.”

“And what about you, my dear?” Brienne countered “The way you were staring at Loras Tyrell, you’re no less.”

That managed to quieten Sansa a bit, but she had no problem coming to terms with her feelings. “I agree with you. I like Loras, he is so handsome,” she said dreamily.

“That’s so romantic, but it would be nice if you concentrate more on work, and less on handsome guys around you, Sansa,” Brienne admonished her affectionately.

“Don’t worry,” Sansa assured her “I’ll ensure the deadlines are met. I won’t let you down, boss.”

Brienne knew she could rely on the girl. That was the beauty of their equation, despite being her boss, she had been able to share a personal rapport with her, without the fear of their professional relationship being compromised.

“Let’s talk about your crush on Renly,” the girl refused to let the topic be “So as I can see it, Jaime Lannister has competition--”

“I am not interested in Jaime,” Brienne retorted, a little too quickly “And I never will be.”

“When you spend a major chunk of your waking hours in someone’s exclusive company,” Sansa said sagely “You kind-of develop _something_ for them. Though, only time can tell what that something would turn out to be.”

“You can rest assured, nothing like that is going to happen,” Brienne said stubbornly “As I said, I just have to tolerate him for two more months, and then I’ll be here, while he will be miles away, in Braavos.”

 

*****

 

Jaime stood alone in the smoking area that morning, puffing on a cigarette as he waited for Bronn, his now regular smoking companion. Lost in his own world, he mulled over the recent developments at work.

At the beginning, he had only been tolerant for Cersei’s sake, but as the days passed, to his surprise, he found himself developing an interest in the subject. He enjoyed busying himself in the plethora of material that had been made available for his benefit. Learning from Brienne had turned out better than his expectations. They had their daily sessions, where the wench would test his knowledge, at times giving him small assignments to work on. Irritating though she was, he had to admit that these classes definitely helped build his confidence. Without her help, he would undoubtedly have found it difficult to cope with the complexity of the module.

No doubt, he still found her unbearable, and he always would, but despite his initial resolution of never wanting to approach her for help, there was something about her that drew him to her every time he was stuck, or had a query.

 _Definitely better than Google_ , he concluded, reminded of the way he had dismissed her during their first meeting.

Jaime did whatever possible from his side for the team, ensuring that they got all the technical help they needed. He sat with the youngsters for endless hours, debugging tricky pieces of code, reviewing their work and suggesting corrections wherever necessary.

A few days down the line, both of them had realized that the only way to work productively was to recognise each other’s weaknesses and complement each other. Brienne was unmatchable at requirement understanding and business logic which was his sore point, while he was brilliant at coding and troubleshooting which had always been her biggest minus.

So why not help each other out amicably? After all, they were working towards a common goal. That way, both of them would be enhancing their personal skills as well.

A glance at the smouldering cigarette in his hand took him back to Brienne’s comment about his chain smoking the previous day. Normally, he would have responded with a curt none-of-your-business retort to anyone who questioned his addiction, but something in her voice had made him hold back his snark. It almost felt as if she had said it out of concern for his health, and not as an expression of her disgust for the habit. No one, not even Cersei had bothered telling him off from that angle.

Ofcourse, he could’ve been wrong in interpreting her intention. Maybe he had imagined the concern in her voice, and she was probably just irritated with his habit.

“Deep in thoughts, Lannister?” Bronn had just entered “You look quite serious today. Had an argument with her?”

“Why would I argue with her?” Jaime asked, genuinely puzzled with the question.

“I never said who _her_ is,” Bronn looked at him suspiciously “I meant your cousin, though I am not sure who you took it to be.”

“I too was talking about my cousin,” Jaime lied, alarmed at the ease with which his mind had jumped to Brienne.

“Oh, is it?” Bronn still looked unconvinced “That’s fine, then.”

+++++

“What is it, wench?” Jaime inquired, noticing the anxious look on her face “You look troubled today.”

“The bosses want to review your solution for branch hierarchy accounting,” she sighed “Tomorrow. You need to put together a presentation, and there’s not much time.”

“I’m sure, it can be done,” he said confidently “I have you to help me with it.”

“Let’s start right now,” she said, glancing at her watch “If we want to finish any time before midnight.”

And so they went about it, creating flowcharts, preparing spreadsheets with examples ranging from the simplest to the most complicated use-cases. They worked for hours, and finally when they were done with getting it into a decent shape, it was well past midnight, 1 a.m to be precise.

“I think that’s good enough progress for today,” Brienne said, shutting down her laptop, a satisfied look spreading over her face as she got to her feet “We can add the last minute touches tomorrow morning. The meeting is at 11:00, so we have a couple of hours to spare.”

“Hey…” Jaime called out, as she picked up her handbag “It’s quite late, are you sure you’ll be fine going alone--” he hesitated, apprehensive of her reaction “--I could drop you home.”

“I have my car, and I am used to going home this late,” she said, then added after a little pause “Thank you, Nice of you to have asked.”

Jaime nodded, he couldn’t help admire her independence and her fierce need to be self-sufficient.

“Bye, Brienne.”

“Goodnight, Jaime.”

“Text me once you get home, wench.” For some inexplicable reason, he wanted to make sure she reached safely.

+++++

The review meeting didn’t turn out to be as straightforward as Jaime had anticipated it to be. Robert insisted on justifications for every single point that he had tried to put forward, questioning him and testing him.

“Why do you want the bank’s user to decide the type of accounting to be done?” Robert challenged one of his design decisions “Doing that means you would end up solutioning for all possible permutations and combinations. You would be increasing the scope of coding, and every extra line of code is an increase in the effort, an increase in the project budget.”

“According to me, doing it this way seemed better--” Jaime struggled to justify his decision, unable to come up with a plausible explanation, despite knowing what he had done was correct.

“If I may interrupt,” Brienne chipped in “Having a user-driven setup rather than hard-wiring something in the program increases the flexibility of our software. No two banks entirely agree with each other on how something should function. This way, each bank can choose to have its own flavour of the output, rather than we, as a system, deciding it for them. And the higher the flexibility, higher are our prospects in selling this feature to other banks as well. Don’t you think so?”

“I am well aware of the benefits of flexibility in the software, Brienne,” Robert didn’t look too pleased at her counter-argument.

“Then I’m sure, sir, that you would agree with Jaime’s solution,” Brienne insisted “I have been having iterative reviews with him, and I have to say that the solution he has presented is the best anyone could come up with.”

There was a long spell of silence, and then Robert got to his feet with a heavy sigh.

“Very well, then,” he conceded reluctantly “If you are convinced with his idea, Brienne, then I’ll see what I can do to get an approval for an increased budget.”

With Robert convinced, there was nothing more to discussed, and the meeting was adjourned. Jaime was glued to his chair, lost in thought, disappointed with the way he had handled the whole affair. He should have been able to present the same argument, since that had been the basis for his solution. Had Brienne not been around--

He looked around, suddenly remembering that he had to speak to her. Seeing that she had almost reached her desk, he hurried after her.

“Brienne--”

She turned around, fidgeting with her phone restlessly, while she waited for him to catch up with her.

“What you did for me in there--” he began, slightly breathless with the effort of chasing her.

“I did it for the project,” she said quickly “Anyone in my place would have done the same.”

“Right,” he nodded “Regardless, thank you for coming to my rescue. You saved me from such a huge embarrassment.”

“I did nothing,” she shrugged “The solution was your idea through and through. I just helped you convince the boss.”

For a few seconds, they just stood there in silence. He had been wondering what to say next, when Brienne’s phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie.

“It’s Sansa,” she said, pointing to her phone “I should probably go now. I’ll see you later.”

+++++

The subsequent Monday, Brienne was not in office. She had texted Jaime to inform him that she would be taking a few days off for personal reasons. However when she failed to turn up even on Friday, Jaime was slightly worried.

“She had a bad fall.” Sansa told him, when he had called the girl to inquire about Brienne “A fractured ankle, and I’m afraid that’s going to keep her bedridden for atleast another fortnight.”

_And she had not bothered to tell him._

After hours of deliberation, he finally decided to call her.

“Hey, it’s me, Jaime,” he said, as soon as she answered, instantly at a loss for words. He had always been terrible at telephonic conversations, finding himself unable to sustain for more than a minute.

“Hi Jaime,” she said hurriedly, and before he could speak further, she went on “I’ve had a couple of people in the team call me with some queries, but I’m afraid I can’t do much from home. I’ll still try my best to help you. What is it that you want to discuss?”

She had assumed that he had called her for work. _Did she think he was that inconsiderate?_

“I didn’t call you to discuss work,” he admitted.

After a short pause, she spoke again “Then, what is it?”

“I just wanted to know…” he hesitated “When would you be resuming?”

“I don’t know, maybe a week or two...” she trailed off “Why are you asking?”

“Just wanted an update from the project perspective. Nothing else,” he said, not entirely sure why he had called her “We have deadlines to meet, don’t we?”

“I know. I’ll try to return as soon as possible,” she sounded slightly guilty. The mad workaholic that she was, it didn’t surprise him.

“Take care, wench,” he whispered, before hanging up “Get well soon.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne is back to work and gets a few surprises - pleasant as well as unpleasant.

Weeks passed by, and Brienne was still confined to bed, her fractured foot healing at its own pace. Jaime had not contacted her again, fearing that if he did, she might think he was being too pushy. Looking back, he figured out that the real intention behind his phone call was not to take stock of her leave status, or to find out when she would resume work. He was genuinely concerned about her, and he just wanted to know if she was doing okay.

With Brienne out of action, he had taken it upon himself to babysit the team. Where they usually turned to her for guidance, they now approached him, a feeling of mutual trust gradually developing between them. After the initial animosity, they had finally come to terms with the situation and accepted him.

Jaime never missed getting his regular updates about the progress of her recovery from Sansa. He spoke to Sansa again today, wanting to know the latest status.

“Does she stay with anyone-friends, family, roommates?” It had just struck Jaime, that he knew nothing about Brienne’s personal life.

“No,” Sansa shook her head “She lives by herself, no roommate, and no boyfriend. Her father is her only family, and he is in Tarth.”

“Then how is she managing now?” Jaime felt sorry for her, it was a punishment to be alone when one was sick, or invalid.

“I have moved in with her temporarily, and I’ll be there until she becomes self-sufficient,” Sansa told him “She still finds it difficult to move around without support. The doctor has advised her complete rest, but she’s hell bent on joining work on Monday. Mr. Lannister--” she went on, after a second’s pause “--Could you try convincing her against this stupid idea?“

“Please call me Jaime,” he corrected her “Yes, she should get all the rest she needs. Tell her, I’m here to manage the show for as long as necessary.”

“Would it not be better, if you told her yourself?” Sansa suggested hopefully.

Jaime’s feet grew cold at the thought of another phone call, but Sansa had a point. “I’ll text her.” he decided.

+++++

After hours of thinking, deliberating, and re-thinking, Jaime reluctantly decided to set aside his phone-phobia and call Brienne, rather than sending a text or an email.

“How’s work?” she inquired, once they were done with the preliminaries “And what about the team? How have they been progressing?”

“Work is going on as usual, and the team misses you,” Jaime replied “I do try to fill in for you, but I am not you, and it’s just not the same for them.”

“Ah, I’m sure you’re doing fine.” he could hear the smile in her encouraging tone “The team has begun warming up to you, and it’s only a matter of time before my absence stops making any difference to them.”

“Your absence makes a huge difference, wench,” Jaime confessed “But there’s absolutely no pressure to resume, take your time, and come back only when you are fully fit.”

“Thanks, Jaime,” she whispered.

“For what?” He had just made a phone call. Anyone in his place would have done the same.

“For taking the time out to ask about my health. Everyone else, our boss included, called me only to discuss work, except--” she paused, he could hear her exhale deeply “--you and Sansa. I really appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to be so formal, Brienne,”  he chided her. All he did, was show some humanitarian consideration towards a co-worker. That definitely did not warrant such an elaborate vote of thanks.

“I’m not being formal, I just felt like thanking you.” The sincerity in her voice was so obvious, that Jaime’s heart soared at the realization that he had just made her day.

“The pleasure is mine,” he said warmly. Casually glancing at his watch, he suddenly remembered something “I should be going, it’s almost time for my meeting with the boss. Looks like he wants a status update.”

“Bye, Jaime.”

“Take care, Brienne, and…” he hesitated, whether to make her the offer or not.

“Yes?”

“Call me if you need anything, whatever be the time of the day,” he said, meaning every word of it “I know Sansa is with you, but there are times when she won’t be available, and you can always count on me.”

A long spell of silence followed, which left Jaime feeling slightly apprehensive. Did he say something wrong? Did he push himself into her personal space to the extent of being unwelcome? Did he breach some invisible, unspoken line?

“I will, Jaime,” she finally answered, much to his relief “Thank you.”

+++++

“We are almost at the end of the development cycle, Jaime,” Robert began, leaving Jaime speculating about the agenda of the meeting “With just the final round of testing pending, which I presume, will commence immediately. Am I correct?”

“Yes sir,” Jaime quickly confirmed the date on his watch “Today is the 1st of July, so if all goes well, we can wind up by month-end.”

“Which means, we can officially release the software to the client by the first week of August, right?”

Jaime nodded.

“There has been immense pressure from the bank to begin the installation and testing as soon as possible,” Robert had finally come to the point.

Reading between the lines, Jaime’s heart skipped a beat. Was Robert indirectly asking him to travel to Braavos? The project obviously excited him, but more than the work, the thought of being reunited with Cersei was enough to get his adrenaline pumping.

“I am planning to send a couple of juniors this month to take stock of the pre-requisites, and get the basic setup done before the actual testing begins,” Robert slowly unfolded his plan “Sansa, Lancel and Greyjoy to begin with. You, Renly and Jon will travel in the first week of August, followed by Tormund and Bronn a week after you land. Tyrion will manage offshore support from here.”

“That’s fantastic news, but--” Jaime was elated, except that something had been nagging him for a while “--what about Brienne?”

“Oh, she’s not interested in travelling,” Robert sounded slightly disappointed “I’ve been trying to convince her, but to no avail. She doesn’t want to leave Westeros, says she is happy doing offshore stuff.”

“Ohh!” Jaime didn’t know what else to say. So this was it, he and Brienne would go their separate ways a few weeks from now.

“Can I be brutally honest with you, Jaime?” Robert asked, giving him an appraising look.

“Definitely, sir,” Jaime braced himself for any unpleasantness that was to come.

“I was keen on Brienne going there in your place. The reason being...” he shifted uncomfortably “How do I put it, Jaime, the client knows about your past reputation, and let’s just say, their top heads were not exactly happy with the idea of you handling such a critical project.”

“Oh,” Jaime felt deflated, his initial euphoria completely dead now “I’m sure you do know, sir, that whatever happened, though completely my fault, was accidental. It was never my intention to share, let alone sell confidential information to our vendors.”

“I believe you,” Robert agreed “But leaving sensitive documents unencrypted, that too on a public server, was an open invitation to miscreants. It was--”

“A stupid drunken mistake, and absolute irresponsibility on my part,” Jaime accepted “I take full ownership for it, and I have faced the music for my actions, having been unceremoniously thrown out of my team. But please do not doubt my integrity.”

“I don’t,” Robert said quickly “That’s why, I convinced Aerys to put you in charge of this implementation.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jaime heaved a sigh of relief “I assure you, I won’t let you down.”

“More than me, you have Brienne to thank for this.”

“Brienne? Why?” For refusing to travel, thereby passing on the opportunity to him?

“Aerys had personally sought her feedback about you,” Robert revealed “She gave him a glowing review.”

Now, that was news to him.

“I must say, when I got you both together, I had anticipated a lot of friction and ego clashes,” Robert let out a nervous laugh “I had never thought, you would get on like a house on fire.”

“I had never imagined that, myself,” Jaime muttered under his breath, inaudible to his boss.

“Not just that, she also put in a word about your efficiency in handling the team in her absence,” there was a hint of pride in his voice “Not bad, Jaime, given that they have been used to taking instructions only from her. I have also come to hear, that the quality of code has improved considerably, with you coming into the picture.”

“Why, I never…Thank you, sir,” Jaime flushed with embarrassed “I’ll have a word with her, thank you.”

He left the cabin, making a mental note to speak to Brienne about this when she got back.

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

“Welcome back, Brienne,” Sansa smiled, giving her a hug.

“Good to see you boss,” Ygritte greeted her. The team had gathered around Brienne’s desk, pleased to see her after more than a month. Her foot still a bit sore, Brienne settled down on her chair, switching on the laptop to begin her day’s work.

“Thanks, guys,” she said, overwhelmed “It’s good to see you too. I can’t tell you how relieved I am, to finally get back to normal life. I missed work, I missed you all--”

“We’ve missed you too,” came a familiar voice from behind her.

As Jaime approached her, the rest of the team moved away, returning to their respective desks. Brienne allowed herself to take a good look at him, and the first thing that came to her mind, was that his beard and his hair had grown a bit since she had last seen him. She hated admitting it to herself, but she couldn’t help admiring him. He was dressed casually in a simple pair of blue jeans, and a plain green t-shirt that was a snug fit, drawing her attention to his well-toned biceps. Distracted by his presence, she had to make an effort to ignore his strong arms, those broad shoulders, and his strikingly handsome face.

_Why the hell was she thinking about him like this?_

“Hey!” he greeted her, seating himself on the table next to her laptop. He was now too close to her for comfort, so much that she could smell his perfume, the musky-woody combination of it driving her olfactory senses crazy.

“How’s your foot now?” he asked, peering down at her from his perch on the table.

“Slightly weak, but almost healed,” she replied, trying not to stare at his thighs.

“I am so glad to hear this,” he gave her a warm smile, green eyes meeting hers, making her slightly uneasy, though not exactly in the negative sense.

“Hi, Brienne.”

Renly had just arrived at her desk. “I just heard, you’re back in action from today. All well now?”

“I’m fine, Renly,” she found herself blushing “How have you been doing?”

“I’ll leave you both to catch up, then.” Jaime slid off the table, his tone now cold, and his warm smile replaced by a sour expression on his face.

“Jaime…” she tried stopping him, puzzled with his abrupt decision to get away “Why are you leaving?”

“I’ll see you later, Brienne,” he said tersely, making his way towards Theon’s desk.

“Quite an unpleasant fellow, isn’t he?” Renly commented, as they stared after Jaime.

“He can be a bit difficult to deal with at times, but definitely not unpleasant.” Far from that, infact. She had to hold back a smile at the recollection of her first impression about him.

“What are you doing tonight, Brienne? If you have no plans, why don’t we go out for dinner?”

Brienne’s heart leapt. _Was he asking her out?_

“I will be travelling to Braavos next month along with Jaime, so I wanted to discuss a few things about your module,” he clarified his intention “I thought, since we’re both too busy at work, why not catch up over dinner?”

 _So, not a date then._ She cursed herself for jumping into conclusions too soon.

“I’d be delighted to join you,” she accepted his invitation, making an effort to hide her disappointment.

+++++

On the way to work the next morning, Brienne began subconsciously analysing last night’s meeting with Renly. Rather than call it a date, or a dinner, meeting seemed to be a better word for it. They had discussed only work, with him talking more about Loras, than himself. It was mostly Loras this, and Loras that, almost as if he shared a personal connection with the boy. Other than the brief inquiry yesterday, he had not bothered to ask about her injury. His lack of interest for her was no surprise, but it did put a dampener to her hopes of a remote possibility, that someday, something might bloom between them.

Why take her out to dinner, though? This could’ve been discussed at work, over a cup of coffee. Only later, did it occur to her that he might have done so to impress her. He was probably aware of her feedback about Jaime, and the importance Aerys attached to her opinion. She had always managed to impress Aerys, being one of the top performers, and ‘ _CEO’s favourite_ ’ was how she was informally referred to, by some in the organisation.

Renly would be pitted against Jaime, with both of them set to travel to the same location, for the same project. So, did he do this to retain himself in her good books? There was no way she could know, and she certainly would not ask him about it.

Anyway, it was not her headache, and none of her business. She had decided to be professional, and her crush on Renly would not influence her feedback about him, if sought. She had interacted with Renly periodically during the project, but of late, he seemed to be quite distracted, often in Loras’ company, drinking and partying even on weekdays. The deterioration in his work output was noticeable, but that was for the boss to judge, and she would stay out of it, speaking about it only when asked.

Jaime on the other hand, had turned out to be the exact opposite of what she had predicted him to be. Dedicated and absolutely responsible, he had become a father-figure to the team in her absence.

+++++

“You look tired,” Jaime observed, as soon as she sank into her chair.

“I was out till late last night,” she suppressed a yawn “And after that, sleep just wouldn’t come until early morning.”

“Oh!” was all he said, before immersing himself into his laptop.

The next few minutes passed, with both of them going about their beginning of day preliminaries-emails and stuff, when Jaime looked up at her all of a sudden, frowning.

“You look different today,” he studied her closely.

“No, I don’t,” she quickly denied.

“Ha!” he clicked his fingers triumphantly “You are wearing a new shirt! You never wear this colour.”

“So?” she squirmed under his gaze “What’s abnormal about that?”

“I never said it’s abnormal,” he lowered his voice, moving his chair close to hers “I have been observing your clothes for the last eight months, and I remember all the colours you have. You mostly wear shades of blue and green. You have never worn anything in red, not until today.”

“I am allowed to wear red,” she said, flustered “I just wanted to try out something unconventional.”

“Come on, wench!” Jaime exclaimed “You expect me to believe that? Go on then, out with it. What’s so special about today?”

When Brienne continued to remain silent, a look of comprehension flashed across Jaime’s face, and he broke into a broad smile.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” he asked, looking her in the eye.

Brienne swallowed, her face growing hotter by the minute as his gaze intensified. She never celebrated birthdays, and no one, except Sansa, knew when her birthday was. However, this time, Sansa seemed to have forgotten.

“Happy Birthday, wench,” he wished her, taking her hand to shake it “I can’t believe, you refused to tell me.”

“No one knows,” she panicked at the idea of a broadcast “I’d prefer it that way.” Her attention was diverted by the tingling sensation all over her body, which obviously, was the effect of his touch.

“Nonsense!” he dismissed her request, letting go of her hand “This calls for a celebration. Let me go and ask Sansa to help me out with the arrangements”

“Jaime, please don’t,” she groaned.

Saying nothing, he gave her a mischievous smile, and left, presumably to find Sansa.

+++++

With Sansa’s help, Jaime had arranged for a cake and snacks, and the entire Iron Bank team was invited for a small celebration in the pantry.

Brienne was partly-embarrassed, and partly-overwhelmed with his gesture. She hated social gatherings, and was not really used to these type of events, but at the same time she couldn’t help feeling cared-for. No one had ever given her such importance, nor done such a sweet thing for her before.

“I can never forgive myself for this,” Sansa apologised to her for the third time that day, when they were clearing up the mess after the party “How awfully forgetful of me, I’m so sorry, Brienne. I should have been the first one to wish you.”

“Don’t feel bad about it. I don’t,” Brienne pacified her “I’m not used to all this, nor did I expect anything like this. You know me, I’m not into parties and celebrations.”

“It is the sentiment that counts,” Sansa said thoughtfully “Who would have thought, Mr.Grumpy Lannister could come up with something so sweet?”

“He’s not grumpy,” Brienne blurted out, without thinking.

“Oh, is it?” Sansa asked teasingly “Warming up to the handsome stranger, are we?”

“I just said, he’s not grumpy,” Brienne felt her face flush. She had to learn to watch her words.

“You know him better,” Sansa continued teasing, her smile getting broader “Although I must say, he really was concerned about you when you had broken your foot. He kept asking me about you every other day--”

“What?”

“He was worried about you,” Sansa said “So I must admit, he’s not that bad.”

_Not bad at all!_

“Who is not bad?” Jaime had joined them, and was now looking at Sansa questioningly “Who were you gossiping about, ladies?”

“No one,” Sansa looked away from him “I’ve got to go.” she fled from there, leaving Brienne alone with Jaime.

Before either of them could speak, Renly was by their side.

“Happy birthday, Brienne,” he said, shaking her hand “Sorry, I’m late to the party. I was stuck in a meeting with Loras.”

Brienne thanked him, and stole a glance at Jaime. The charming smile on his face when he had come to meet her instantly morphed into a frown. What the hell was his problem with Renly?

“Why didn’t you tell me last night?” Renly went on, his tone accusatory “We could’ve celebrated at midnight.”

“Last night?” Jaime repeated, throwing her a sharp look.

“Brienne and I had dinner last night, Jaime,” Renly told him, as if divulging a huge secret “Didn’t you tell him, Brienne?”

“Why would she tell me?” Jaime was extremely polite, though she could detect a tinge of anger in his voice “I don’t keep tabs on her personal life.”

“Oh, I see,” Renly took turns looking at both of them “Don’t worry, Jaime, it was just an official dinner. Work stuff, nothing more than that.”

“Why would I bother even if it was personal?” Jaime’s voice was icy.

Brienne clicked her tongue in disbelief. This was beginning to turn into a sophisticated cat fight between the two men.

Renly looked as if he was about to shoot him a scathing reply, when Loras turned up, and whispered something in his ear. “Would you excuse me? Something has just come up, and I have to leave. Have a good evening, Brienne, and enjoy the rest of your birthday!” He left, with Loras at his heel, the two of them deep in conversation, oblivious to the rest of the world.

“What do you see in him?” Jaime gave her an irritated look “From where I stand, he’s just a pretty boy who is good for nothing at his work.”

“He’s not good for nothing,” Brienne defended him involuntarily.

“Can’t you see obvious?” Jaime sounded angry “Renly is gay!”

“What the hell do you mean?” It was Brienne’s turn to be furious.

“If only you open your eyes and observe him, you will realize that I am right,” Jaime’s voice went up a notch “So stop chasing him.”

“I’m not chasing him. And how can you conclude he’s gay? You hardly know him.” Brienne was shocked that Jaime’s imagination and assumptions could go to such extremes “You don’t like him, that’s why you are blowing things out of proportion.”

“I am right, trust me on this,” he had a fiery glint in his eyes “And let me make one thing clear, he is not so important, that I have to waste my time liking or disliking him.”

“I don’t believe you,” Brienne shook her head, unable to digest the revelation.

“Your attraction for him is very obvious, Brienne. Why then, is he not interested in you? Have you ever given it a thought?”

“Because I am ugly,” Brienne supplied dully “And he happens to be the most handsome guy around.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed “But have you ever seen him with any other woman? I’m damn sure, many girls, even some of the prettier ones have the hots for him.”

That was a very valid point. After the initial shock of Jaime’s conclusion had worn off, Brienne thought about it carefully. Lately, Renly was always seen in the company of Loras Tyrell. In office, and outside work, they were inseparable. Could it be, that Jaime was right? Her heart sank at the blunt truth, she had never been lucky in love, and her bad luck had not failed her this time as well.

She suddenly felt mentally exhausted, craving nothing more than to curl up in bed with a cup of hot chocolate. Chocolate always helped whenever she felt low.

“I’m leaving,” she said, picking up her bag “Thanks for the party, Jaime.”

“Brienne,” Jaime called out, sounding slightly guilty “I’m sorry, if I have upset you. I just wanted to point out the facts.”

“It’s not you,” her voice was choked, and she tried to prevent the tears that were threatening to fill her eyes. She walked away from there, not wanting to meet anyone else for the rest of the evening.

+++++

Brienne lay awake well past midnight, her head full of Renly, and her mind yet to reconcile with the truth about him. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts, that her phone lay forgotten somewhere on the bed. Later on, when she checked it, there were three missed calls from Jaime. Why was he trying to reach her at this odd hour? While she was debating whether to call him or not, the phone buzzed again.

“You alright, wench?” Jaime asked, sounding slightly concerned when she answered on the second ring.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just wanted to check...” a long pause followed “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he finished abruptly.

“Goodnight, Jaime.”

“Night, Brienne.”

Putting her phone aside, Brienne switched off the lights and retired to bed. Apprehensive that she might end up sleep deprived once again, she closed her eyes, hoping for a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

And again, as her luck would have it, sleep wouldn’t come that easily and she ended up staring at the ceiling. But Renly was not the culprit this time. To her astonishment, she found herself thinking about Jaime and his phone call for a long time, until her tired eyes finally succumbed to fatigue.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has to leave for Braavos.

“Are you sure, you’re fine?” Jaime paused in the middle of their discussion, posing the question to her for the Nth time in the past few days. Brienne had gone unusually quiet since the night she discovered the heartbreaking truth about Renly. Days later, she still seemed distracted, and at times, mentally absent during meetings. She spent most of her free time by herself, speaking only when spoken to.

“I’m fine, Jaime,” she replied in a deadpan voice.

She was anything but fine. He could see her suffering, her distress and agony clearly visible when he looked past the facade of indifference on her face. _Fuck Renly!_

Jaime opened his mouth, ready to advise her to get over Renly and move on, when Sansa dashed into the meeting room, gatecrashing their little chat. She looked extremely agitated, almost as if she would burst into tears any minute.

“I’ve been looking for you, Brienne,” she said, panting “There’s a problem.”

Brienne got up, her brows furrowed in concern. “Sit down, Sansa. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“I won’t be able to travel to Braavos.”

“Why?”

“My dad just called. My mother’s met with an accident,” she spoke very fast, tension writ large upon her face “She’s seriously injured. I need to take a few days off to go and take care of her.”

“You should leave immediately. Don’t worry about work,” Brienne said gently, making an attempt to calm the girl down.

“What about Jon?” Jaime inquired, wondering if Sansa’s cousin might change his plans too due to this unfortunate turn of events.

“Jon will continue to travel with you. I have to leave for Winterfell immediately. Robb’s on a business trip to Riverrun, and dad's all alone with the boys and Arya,” she was almost in tears now.

Brienne squeezed her hand comfortingly. “Go ahead, your family needs you. You can leave right away. We’ll figure out who can go in your place.”

As soon as Sansa thanked her and left, Brienne turned to Jaime, thinking about how to tackle the immediate problem on their hands. “Who do you think, we should recommend as her replacement?”

“I don’t know,” Jaime ran his fingers through his hair thoughtfully “We have a lot of worthy candidates-Sam, Ygritte, Gendry, Loras--”

He stopped at the sight of her stiffening when he mentioned Loras.

“I’m sorry, Brienne,” he lowered his voice to a whisper “I didn’t mean to rub salt in your wounds.”

“You did nothing,” her expression turned wooden “Loras is going to turn up wherever Renly goes, sooner or later. I feel sorry for Sansa, she’s going to be terribly disappointed, having lost such a fantastic opportunity,” she deliberately diverted the topic to Sansa, not wanting to discuss Renly any further.

“She can always travel later,” Jaime suggested “This implementation will be on for atleast a couple of years. Whenever the next slot opens up, I’ll pull her in. Now that she’s going to continue here, she’ll report to you, so that’s not too bad for her, is it?”

Brienne took a deep breath. “She’s going to work with Tyrion. I’m moving out of the project, beginning next month.”

“What?” Jaime’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t imagine the project going on without her.

“Once the development is over, I have nothing significant to contribute,” she shrugged “It makes sense to move on.”

“Why don’t you come with us?” Jaime decided to try his luck at convincing her, hoping against hope that she agreed.

“I’ve had enough of travel, and this time there are enough leads-you, Jon, Renly--” she turned away quickly “--there’s no place for me there.”

“If this is about Renly,” Jaime couldn’t control his anger anymore “I don’t think you should let your feelings for him influence your career decisions.”

“I know, Jaime. My decision has nothing to do with Renly.”

Jaime shifted in his chair, contemplating whether he should say it or not. “If you ever decide to come to Braavos, you have me--” he stopped, when he realised how his statement could possibly be misinterpreted “--I mean, you have us-Jon, me, and the rest of us. Just forget Renly ever existed.”

“It’s nice of you to say that, Jaime,” she managed a smile “But it’s not about Renly. Even before signing up for this project, I was quite firm about it-no onsite trips anymore.”

Jaime gave up, slightly disappointed with his failure to brainwash her into changing her decision. But there was something he had been wanting to speak to her about for a while. “I’ve been meaning to tell you this for long, thanks a ton for everything you did for me.”

Brienne looked puzzled. “I didn’t do anything.”

“For the feedback you gave Robert and Aerys,” he clarified.

“I didn’t do anything out of the way,” she said, her cheeks turning slightly pink “I just gave them the facts as they were. I would have done the same for anyone in your place, had they been as good as you.”

_Ofcourse, she did it for the project, not for him. But why was she blushing, then?_

“You are the best among us,” her eyes shone with pride and appreciation “Your presence in Braavos is going to greatly benefit the project. And,” she added after a pause “Thanks for managing the team so well in my absence.”

“Come on, wench, stop thanking me for every little thing,” he waved a hand dismissively “I just did my job. They are my team as well, aren’t they?”

Brienne gave him a warm smile, her vivid blue eyes exuding sincerity and innocence. _How could someone so ugly have eyes so beautiful?_

The honesty in her eyes triggered a sudden urge in Jaime to want to clarify his past to her. It was none of her business, nor did he owe her any explanation, but he felt she had to know the truth, and not the world’s perception about him.

“Listen, Brienne, there is something else I need to tell you.”

Her eyes were full of curiosity, as she waited for him to go on.

“About what happened in the IB team--” he began.

“Whatever happened in your past is not going to influence my opinion about you, Jaime,” she assured him.

“I’m grateful for that, but allow me to explain what happened,” he insisted “It was a mistake, one that almost cost me my career, and Cersei her job here.”

“Cersei?” The look of surprise on her face clearly told Jaime that she was unaware of Cersei’s existence in his life. She was still untouched by the gossip that clouded his professional life for years.

“My cousin, and the love of my life,” he said, divulging what was by far, the most intimate truth of his life to this woman he barely knew.

“You never told me you had a girlfriend!” Brienne exclaimed, her eyes widening.

“I never got the chance to tell you, wench.” Jaime studied her face. The momentary flash of surprise had disappeared, and her expression was back to normal.

“Where is Cersei now?”

“She works with the Iron bank,” Jaime said, wishing he could see Cersei soon “She resigned from the IB team soon after this incident. My father disapproved of our relationship. He wanted us apart, and this episode proved to be the perfect catalyst for the successful execution of his plan.”

“Your father?” Brienne gave him a surprised look “How could your father possibly have--”

“Tywin Lannister is one of the most influential men in Westeros,” Jaime said bitterly “He was largely responsible for getting Cersei away from here, convincing her to resign, so that he could fix her a position away from Westeros, away from me. According to him, he had done it to protect her from all the gossip and controversy that ensued from my disgraceful deeds.”

Jaime paused, waiting for a response, but Brienne just continued looking at him in silence. So, he decided to go on.

“Anyway, coming back to what really happened. One night, Cersei and I were working late, debugging something on a client machine that the vendor also had access to. We got drunk, and one thing led to another--”

Jaime halted once again, trying to gauge her reaction. _Would she hate him for this?_ Fortunately, her face showed no sign of disgust or any other negative emotion, which encouraged him to go on.

“--The next morning, we found out that in a fit of passion, we had carelessly left some bits of critical source code and some documents lying around on that machine, which happened to get into the hands of the vendors. Wanting to protect Cersei from the aftermath of our blunder, I claimed sole responsibility to everything.”

“What happened after that, is public information,” Brienne finished.

“I just want you to know, that it was never my intention to compromise the project or the company,” he said hastily “I don’t want you to doubt my integrity.”

“I don’t,” she said earnestly “Thanks for trusting me enough to confide in me.”

“And thanks for hearing me out, and believing me,” he murmured, relieved that she took his word at face value “And not thinking about me in the same vein as the rest of the world.”

Brienne gave him a smile, which though sincere, had an undercurrent of sadness. It had been quite a while since the Renly revelation, but Jaime could still see the aftereffects of that heartbreak in her eyes.

“He didn’t deserve you,” he said angrily.

“Excuse me?”

“I meant Renly,” he mentally cursed himself for speaking out his thoughts “I don’t mean to intervene in your personal matters, but I can’t bear to see you so forlorn. You deserve much better than him, and you will find someone who loves you--”

“Look at me first!” Brienne cried out, her eyes shining with indignation “And then, look me in the eye, and tell me that someone will fall in love with me.”

Jaime’s eyes met hers. “True love goes beyond physical appearances, wench.”

“True love only exists in fairy tales and children's books,” she shot back “Not everyone is as lucky as you in love. Anyway, I never had any expectations from Renly. It was just a stupid crush that should have stayed a crush.”

Before he could stop himself, Jaime lay a placating hand on her arm. “I don’t care much for destiny or the made-for-each-other stuff, but I definitely hope you find someone far better than Renly. He was an asshole who didn’t deserve even 1% of your attention.”

Brienne was taken aback by his words. “Thank you, Jaime.”

“I meant every word of it,” Jaime said quietly “I didn’t just say all that to make you feel better.”

“But the world doesn’t work that way,” she argued “Men don’t care about women who aren’t beautiful or sexy, so someone as ugly as me doesn’t even feature in the equation.”

“Not all men are the same,” Jaime retorted “So please don’t generalise anything about us.” 

 

  

 

 

_*****_

 

 

 

 

“I’m leaving for Braavos on Saturday,” Jaime told her, when they were reviewing the final set of release notes. A week had gone by since Sansa left for Winterfell, presenting Ygritte with the opportunity to travel in her absence.

“Oh!” Brienne exclaimed, surprised that time had flown so fast “So just another day in office.” _Today was Thursday, just tomorrow to go, and then he would be gone..._

“That’s it, it’s goodbye then, huh,” he said, his expression unfathomable.

“I suppose so,” Brienne forced herself to smile “Though, you can always get in touch with me on chat or on phone, if you need any help.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Can't wait to get back to Cersei?” Brienne asked, slightly miffed with the mental image of Jaime sleeping with his cousin. She never knew he had a girlfriend, not until he had bothered to tell her after almost a year of their acquaintance. Was it really his fault? People usually avoided discussing their love lives with their colleagues.

At the mention of Cersei’s name, his face lit up with the brightest smile she had ever seen. “You don’t know, how much I’m looking forward to meeting her again.”

_No doubt, he was head over heels in love with this Cersei woman!_

“Have you told Sansa she’ll be working with Tyrion?”

“Not yet,” she sighed, making a mental note to do this as soon as possible “I’m not sure how she’ll take it.”

“Tyrion’s a nice guy,” he said, then quickly added “I’m not saying that because he’s my brother.”

“I know,” Brienne agreed “I’ve met him, and I liked him. I’m sure, working with him will be a good experience for Sansa.”

“For him, too,” Jaime had a sly look in his eyes “If my observation is correct, I think, he may have a slight crush on her.”

“Really?” Brienne had never noticed this, but then she hardly ever noticed anything like this.

“Have you seen the way he looks at her? I’ve never seen that kind of longing in his eyes for anyone, not since his childhood sweetheart Tysha.”

“Falling for your colleague will only end up complicating things,” Brienne said wistfully, her thoughts going back to Renly again “But it’s too early for these two, so let’s wait and watch before jumping into conclusions. Better Tyrion than that awful Loras Tyrell,” her tone had a bitter edge to it, an indication of jealousy more than anything else.

“Still pining for Renly?” Jaime's voice rose in anger “Let go of him, wench, he’s not worth your tears.”

“Easier said than done,” she muttered.

“I know,” he said, his tone softening “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be harsh. But I can’t see you like this. It pains me--”

He stopped, presumably deciding not to continue with whatever he had intended to say.

“I should be going,” he got up “Got some travel formalities to follow up with.”

“What time is your flight?”

“Day after tomorrow at 7 p.m. I’ll be in office till about noon. So tomorrow is the last I’ll be seeing of you, then,” there was an odd note to his voice.

“I’m working on Saturday too,” she blurted out, though she had no such plans “In case you need any last minute help, I’ll be around.”

+++++

“Work with the imp?” Sansa groaned, when Brienne informed her of the change in reporting as soon as she was back from her leave “I might as well quit my job and stay at home.”

“Don’t call him that, I’m sure you’re well aware that Tyrion is much senior to you,” Brienne chided her “Leave such childish ideas behind, Sansa, you’re not a fresher any more. Try to be more professional and show some maturity.”

Sansa gave her a sour look. “Not that I have any say in this, do I?”

“I’m afraid, no,” Brienne was quite firm.

“I’ll miss working with you,” Sansa whined “Why don’t you take up offshore?”

“Because Tyrion has already been designated for it,” Brienne explained “And there’s another project which is just at the initial stages. I might do a better job there. I’m not much value add here.”

“You’ll always add value, wherever you go,” Sansa said warmly.

“Thank you, Sansa.”

“I’m sorry about Renly,” she said, wearing a solemn expression “I heard what happened on your birthday.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Brienne said brusquely “I guess the news may have affected you as much as me, given that Loras is his _boyfriend_.”

“It did,” Sansa agreed “But I’m over him now. You should forget about Renly too. Now, _Jaime_ on the other hand is a much better match for you--”

“I think we've discussed enough about our love lives, Sansa,” Brienne felt her face grow hot “Let’s get back to work. I have a new project to begin with.”

“Judging by the way you’re blushing at just the mention of Jaime’s name--”

“I am NOT blushing,” Brienne shouted “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend.” She hastily stormed out of there.

“Where are you going?” Sansa called out, laughing, as she followed Brienne “That’s the washroom you’re heading towards, the conference room is on the other side.”

“I meant to go to the washroom,” Brienne said defiantly, making her way to the ladies room just to prove a point to Sansa.

+++++

Saturday came sooner than she expected, and Brienne was in office at 11 a.m, too early by any standards for a weekend. The floor was empty, the only human presence being the housekeeping staff moving around, vacuuming the place, and a couple of juniors from another team. Jaime was not in yet. Not having anything constructive to do, Brienne idly browsed a few videos on her laptop, glancing at the entrance every few minutes.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she had come in today. Having no plans for the weekend meant she would die of boredom at home, but more than that, the thought of meeting Jaime one last time was incentive enough for her to show up.

“In so early on a weekend, wench?” Jaime had finally arrived. He settled down at his desk, scanning the floor as he unzipped his laptop bag. “Where’s your new team?”

“It’s just me. I came to catch up on some work,” she lied “So that I have a heads up before Monday morning.”

He nodded, switching on his laptop.

“I need some help with the interest calculation logic,” he called out to her “Let me know, whenever you’re free.”

“I’m free now,” Brienne replied, eager to be of some help.

Within seconds, he was at her desk, and the two of them sat pouring over the code on her laptop, engrossed in it for the next hour or so. Brienne explained the flow to him with a line-by-line walk-through.

“So if we apply this logic, what is the gross interest that we would arrive at for a Savings account having a fixed balance over a period of one year, assuming the interest rate increases by 0.25% at the end of six months?” Jaime interrupted her, reaching for the mouse, but grabbing her hand instead, not noticing that she was still using the mouse.

Brienne was tongue tied, her throat suddenly dry, and the familiar tingling sensation had taken over her body again. Jaime went on speaking, his eyes fixed on the screen, oblivious of the effect his touch had on her.

“Come on, that shouldn’t be so difficult for you,” he said, eventually taking his eyes off the screen and looking at her.

“I...ummm…give me some time to think about it,” she gulped, completely flustered, hoping and praying for him to take his hand off hers and rid her of this embarrassment.

“Think about it?” Jaime repeated, surprised. When she wordlessly averted her eyes from his, he seemed to realise his folly, releasing her hand almost reflexively.

“I’m sorry, Brienne,” he mumbled, turning beet red “I didn’t realise...I didn’t mean to…” She turned to him again, and for a moment their eyes were locked on to each other’s.

“So, where were we then?” He was the first to come to his senses.

“Yes, interest calculation,” she murmured, her heartbeat slowly stabilizing as they returned to their discussion.

By the time they had finished, it was well past noon.

“It’s time,” Jaime got up, shutting down his laptop and packing up “Got to go home, pick up my stuff and leave.”

“All the best, Jaime,” Brienne was surprised at how hollow her voice sounded “I hope this implementation gives you the career boost that you’ve always craved for.”

“Thanks,” he grinned “Wish you luck for your new project, wench.”

She walked with him to the exit, wondering when she would see him again, _if she would see him again._

“Goodbye, Brienne,” he said, as he stepped into the elevator. He took her hand, shaking it firmly. “I know what’s going through your mind, wench, I’m sure you’re happy to be rid of me finally.” He let go of her hand after a good thirty seconds of holding on to it.

“That’s not at all how I feel--”

“I know, I’m just joking,” he gave her a teasing smile.

“It was fantastic working with you,” Brienne gushed, her voice reflecting all the sincerity in her heart.

“Same here, I never thought I’d gel with you guys so nicely. So, see you in about a year or two, maybe?” he suggested hopefully, his finger on the button, ready to leave any moment.

“If I’m still around by then.”

“I definitely hope to see you again, Brienne.”

She waved him goodbye. “Bye, Jaime, it’s going to be strange not having you around from Monday,” she admitted, a weird emptiness suddenly engulfing her.

“Likewise,” he whispered, his eyes not leaving hers, until the doors slid shut and she saw him no more.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finally gets what he has always wanted - Cersei. But unfortunately for him, he is unable to stop thinking about Brienne.

Jaime settled down in the aircraft, ready to spend the long flight dreaming about Cersei. He was scheduled to reach Braavos at 3 a.m local time. Never one to prefer overnight journeys, he prepared himself for a sleepless night, a long playlist on his phone waiting to keep him occupied and entertained.

 _Atleast I have something pleasant to think about,_ he smiled, letting his mind wander towards his lovely cousin. Having been away from her for more than a year, he was itching to see her again, to touch her, kiss her, and to do much more. He was looking forward to making up for the lost time. Now that he would be close to her for about two years, at the very least, he wanted to make the most of it. The team was to be put up in rented apartments close to their workplace, and Jaime would be sharing with Bronn who was scheduled to take the first flight tomorrow. He had made prior arrangements to ensure he was staying in the same building as Cersei.

Plugging in his earpods, he closed his eyes and reclined his seat, trying to picture what Cersei would look like now. They had been apart for just over a year, but he missed her so much that it hurt.

The second he shut his eyes, the first thing to fill his mind was a striking image of eyes as blue as the sky!

 _What the hell?_ He sat bolt upright, startled. Pushing away the memory of Brienne’s eyes and the soulful look in them as he went down that elevator, he sank into his seat again and relaxed, pulling up thoughts about Cersei.

+++++

“Oh god, Cersei!” he gasped, taking her in his arms and kissing her as soon as he saw her outside his apartment “You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you, how many times I’ve longed to touch you.”

To his surprise, she recoiled at his touch. “Jaime, no,” she pushed him away, her eyes darting from one end of the passage to the other fearfully “Someone might see us,” her voice was barely audible.

“Aren’t you glad that I’m here?” Jaime was slightly disappointed with her lack of enthusiasm and her hesitation to get intimate with him. His apartment was on the tenth floor, and Cersei lived on the floor above him. “There’s no one around, darling,” he coaxed, wrapping his arms around her waist “Even if someone does see us, how does it matter?”

“It does matter to me,” she objected, wriggling out of his grasp “Lancel is just next door. I don’t want tongues wagging in case he, or anyone else happens to sneak in on us.”

How could he forget Lancel, his cousin, and Cersei’s brother? Why the fuck did that boy have to be in such close proximity to them? In Jaime’s opinion, he was nothing more than a pest.

“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly “When are we going to meet, then? You know, I can’t wait to make love to you.” He gave her his sexiest smile, one that was sure to make her go weak in the knees.

She drew closer to him, the seductive glint in her eyes heightening his arousal to the maximum extent possible. Desperate to be with Cersei, the anticipatory excitement alone had been good enough to get him all hot and bothered. Little did he know, that actually getting close to her would have an exponential effect on his _condition_. He marveled at the way his body responded to her. No other woman made him feel this way. She gave him a peck on the cheek, before whispering in his ear. “Tonight,” she breathed “My place, around midnight. I’ll be awake, waiting for you.”

As soon as she left, Jaime hauled his stuff into the two-bedroom apartment that he was supposed to share with Bronn. A couple of hours later, when he was done with getting things into place, he sank into the nearest chair, extremely tired and jet-lagged. Fortunately, he had landed on a Sunday. Travelling on a weekend meant he had enough time to get over the time-zone difference, with the opportunity to catch up with Cersei before he got to work tomorrow being an added bonus.

Changing into shorts and a comfortable tee, he settled himself on the bed, hoping for a few hours of undisturbed sleep.

And yet again, as soon as he closed his eyes, the first vision to pop up in his head was that of Brienne's lovely blue eyes that had been haunting him since the second he had walked away from her. He was unable forget the look on her face when she had bid him goodbye. Was that the last he had seen of Brienne Tarth? He hoped not, wanting to meet her again, needless to say, his intention being purely professional.

_I should stop thinking about her and go to sleep!_

_+++++_

The shrill beep of the alarm on his cell phone woke him up at 6:00 in the evening, leaving him with just enough time to freshen up and get ready for dinner with the team. Cersei wouldn’t be there, ofcourse, since she was an employee of the bank and not a part of their team.

“Had a good flight?” he asked, as he bumped into Bronn on his way to the kitchen. Bronn had taken the Sunday morning flight, and had presumably arrived when Jaime was asleep. Originally scheduled to travel a week later, he was summoned earlier as work had been piling up.

“Fantastic!” Bronn gave him a wicked grin “Ran into a pretty air hostess. I have her number, planning to give her a call tonight.”

“Good for you,” Jaime gave him a thumbs up “You seem to have your love life sorted out wherever you go.”

“What can I say?” Bronn put on an air of superiority “Women find me irresistible.”

“Lucky you.”

“I heard Brienne is not joining us,” Bronn studied him carefully “Why is that so?”

“She doesn’t want to travel,” Jaime recalled his conversation with Brienne and his failure to persuade her.

“Is it because of Renly?”

“I don’t think so,” Jaime said, though he had considered that possibility “Atleast that’s what she claims.”

“Didn’t you try to convince her?”

“I did,” Jaime said ruefully “But the wench wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Wench?” Bronn’s eyes widened “I didn’t know, the two of you gave each other cute nicknames!”

“Let's pretend you never heard that,” Jaime felt his cheeks grow hot “No one knows about it. I only call her wench when we’re alone.”

“Ahhh,” Bronn nodded wordlessly, a sly glint in his eyes.

“Don’t you jump into any conclusions,” Jaime hissed “It’s just a harmless nickname.”

“Have you given anyone else nicknames?” Bronn continued harassing him “Cersei? Or me?”

“Do I need one for everyone I know?” Jaime’s voice went up in pitch and volume.

“No,” Bronn shook his head “I just asked out of curiosity. Using a private nickname for a woman you worked with, means absolutely nothing. I agree.”

Jaime turned away, flustered, vowing to be careful around Bronn henceforth. Silently he went about dressing up for dinner.

+++++

Jaime was glad to meet Jon and the rest of the team, well, everyone except Renly and Loras. His blood boiled at the sight of the duo. Not wanting to start an unnecessary argument, he made a conscious attempt to avoid them for the rest of the evening.

“Jaime,” Renly gave him a curt nod, when the two of them eventually met in the men’s room.

“Renly,” Jaime returned the courtesy with equal enthusiasm.

“I wonder why Brienne refused to join us,” he asked smoothly, irritating Jaime further.

“Why don’t you ask yourself?” Jaime’s tone was icy.

“Stop blaming me, I did nothing,” Renly at once turned defensive “If she has a crush on me, it doesn’t mean I have to reciprocate. The ugly beast of a woman that she is, how can she even think--”

Before Jaime could realize what he was doing, his hand was on Renly’s collar. “Don’t you talk about her like that,” he glowered at Renly menacingly “She is worth a hundred of you.”

“Let go of me, Lannister,” Renly spat, furious. But Jaime didn’t relent. He just stood there glaring at the man in front of him, hating him from the bottom of his heart.

“What the fook are you doing, Jaime?” Bronn seized his arm and pulled him away. In his anger, Jaime had not noticed Bronn enter.

“He insulted Brienne.”

“That doesn’t mean you can pick up a fight with him,” Bronn tried to pacify him, still holding on to his arm “It’s easier to talk about someone behind their back. He lacks the courage to say it to her face,” he frowned, throwing Renly a dirty look.

Jaime took a deep breath. Forcing himself to calm down, he released Renly.

“Don’t ever speak ill of her in my presence,” he warned, his eyes continuing to shoot daggers at him.

“If I remember correctly, I heard you say the exact same thing about her a year ago,” Renly sneered at him “What happened now? Gone soft on her, have you?”

Jaime took a step towards the exit, not wanting to turn this into a full fledged brawl, but Renly didn’t seem to want to let go.

“Oh come on, Lannister,” he prodded, provoking Jaime further “I’ve seen the way you look at her, like you want to fuck her--”

“I respect her,” Jaime stopped, turning to face Renly again “Unlike you.”

Renly was unperturbed. “Been sleeping with her during all your cozy little late night work sessions?” his eyes lingered on Jaime for a few seconds, giving him an appraising look “Can’t blame her, the handsome dude that you are, that’s probably the best sex she could ever have, or rather that’s definitely the only sex she might ever--”

That was the last straw. Jaime lunged at him, this time with every intention to punch him in the face and knock him down senseless, but Bronn held him back. “Come on,” he pulled Jaime out of the washroom “Let’s get out of here.”

The two of them had decided to abandon dinner, and left the restaurant for a smoke.

“There was no need for that,” Bronn broached the subject again, in between clouds of smoke “You didn’t have to stoop to his level.”

“There’s nothing going on between Brienne and me,” Jaime said indignantly, the very idea itself sounding preposterous in his head.

“I know,” Bronn agreed “But given that she’s the only woman you’ve interacted with at work over the last year or so, there is bound to be some gossip.”

“I respect her,” Jaime took in a breath full of nicotine “And I hold her in high regard. That’s all there is between us.”

“I see that,” Bronn nodded in agreement again “But why did Renly’s comment drive you crazy then?”

“She’s a respectable woman, and a good friend of mine. So it goes without saying that I can’t tolerate such insults against her. My jumping to her defense doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with her,” he finished angrily.

“I never claimed you were sleeping with her,” Bronn said, though he didn’t sound too convinced with Jaime’s reasoning “I just wanted to know the reason behind your aggression. Why didn’t you simply ignore him? Had you attacked him, you could’ve been arrested on your first day here. We don’t want that kind of trouble in a foreign country.”

When Jaime was still silently fuming, Bronn lay a hand on his shoulder “Forget this ever happened, let’s go have a drink.”

Still boiling inside, Jaime was glad to avail of Bronn’s offer and left with him.

+++++

It was 6 a.m when he sneaked out of Cersei’s room. What an amazing night they had! He had been faithful to Cersei all along, and having been celibate for more than a year had made it even more memorable for Jaime. Smiling to himself, he pulled on his clothes and kissed his sleeping cousin.

“Bye, darling,” he whispered, as she stirred in her sleep “I’ll see you later at work.”

He couldn’t help dwelling on the memories of last night as he was getting dressed. Only after spending the night with Cersei did he realize, how much he craved a woman’s touch. Oddly, his thoughts drifted to his last meeting with Brienne. The way he had accidentally held her hand was still fresh in his memory. Expecting a masculine feel to her touch, he was surprised to find her soft and feminine.

On the way to work, which was just a five minute walk from his residence, he pulled out his phone and dialled Brienne’s number.

“Hello,” answered a groggy voice after a long time. Damn! He had not bothered to consider the time difference. Westeros was 2.5 hours behind Essos, so it must be around 5:30 a.m now, too early for Brienne to be up.

“Jaime?” she sounded surprised “What’s up? Have you reached?”

“Yeah,” his mind suddenly went blank, and he wondered what to say next.

“Tell me,” she prompted, punctuating her speech with yawns “What did you call me for? Need any help?”

_Do I always need an official reason to call you, wench?_

“I called you to--” he paused, once again tongue tied “I just wanted to inform you that I’ve reached safely.”

“Nice to know,” she breathed “But it’s quite early in the morning, I was sleeping--”

“I’m sorry,” he apologised hastily “The time difference didn’t occur to me. I just thought of calling you.”

He waited, but when there was no response, he decided to put an end to the awkward conversation. “Bye, wench, I’ll talk to you later.”

Having reached office quite early, Jaime took advantage of the extra time to get acquainted with the new work environment. None of his team members were in yet, and there was atleast an hour to kill before they could have their first meeting. Bronn had been out all night with a blonde he had met in the pub, and Jaime expected him to arrive no earlier than 11 a.m.

8:30... 9… 9:30…10:00...Jaime kept glancing at his watch every few minutes, but time just seemed to be crawling. Alone, with no one to speak to and discuss the next course of action, Jaime was almost tempted to call Brienne again, when his phone rang.

“Hey,” it was Brienne. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t speak to you properly when you called. I was half asleep.”

“No problem, wench, it was nothing important.”

“So, how’s the new office?” she inquired.

“Dull,” he said glumly, looking around. Unable to spot a single familiar face, he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. To his disgust, the first person he saw entering was Renly, closely followed by Loras.

“Why is it dull?” Brienne sounded curious.

“Because you’re not around to talk to,” he admitted, without thinking.

There was a long pause at the other end. “I mean, I miss the way we started work early in the day, our fruitful discussions and debates,” Jaime tried to cover up his indiscretion.

“It’s just your first day,” she reassured him “I’m sure things will get better.”

“I hope so.” He didn’t feel too hopeful about it.

“So, did you meet--” Brienne hesitated a bit “--Cersei?”

“Oh, yes,” Jaime perked up immediately at Cersei’s mention “This is between the two of us, Brienne, but I have to confess, I had a wonderful time with her last night.”

“That’s nice,” she sounded feeble, and somewhat unenthusiastic “Umm...Jaime, I’ve got to go now, else I’ll end up having burnt toast for breakfast.”

“Bye, Brienne,” Jaime smiled, as he disconnected the call. The last thing he could visualize was the wench cooking breakfast. Since their first meeting, he had always imagined Brienne as the future head honcho of a high-profile company, tough and career oriented, rubbing shoulders with successful men. He found it difficult to associate her with routine household chores, typical of women. Lost in thoughts, he strode to his desk, when he bumped into Bronn.

“What’re you so happy about?” Bronn peered at him curiously “And who were you talking to?”

“Brienne,” he replied, subconsciously whistling a tune as he fired up his laptop.

“Ohh!” Bronn exclaimed, rolling his eyes “No wonder.”

“There’s no need for that look,” Jaime said, proactively justifying himself before Bronn could let his imagination run amok “I called her sometime back. She was asleep, and she just happened to return the call.”

“Did I ask?” Bronn put up an innocent face.

“You didn’t, but I can sort of predict what’s going on in your corrupt mind,” Jaime said, finding the very possibility disturbing.

“Now you’re putting ideas into my head,” Bronn said mischievously. Choosing to ignore him, Jaime turned to his laptop, preparing himself to begin his day.

The hours went by, and work had begun full swing for Jaime and his team which comprised of Bronn and Lancel, since the available team had been split up into smaller groups for convenience of work allocation and management. Jaime had his hands full, a pile of issues reported by the bank that were pending resolution for the past couple of days. Soon enough, he found himself reaching for his phone again to call Brienne.

“Hey, I need help with the Savings Statement,” he whined, as soon as she answered “The damn thing is stuck in an infinite loop.”

“Why not do a quick walk through?” she suggested, as if it were a piece of cake “I’m sure we’ll find the problem in a few minutes.”

“Quick walk-through?” Jaime repeated in disbelief “This is 3000+ lines of code we are talking about, wench!”

“It won’t take long,” Brienne assured him “Why don’t you share your screen across webex, so that I can see what you see?”

“In a minute,” Jaime closed all the unnecessary windows. He didn’t want Brienne to stumble into anything embarrassing. Once he had given her access to his laptop, they went about running through the program, while chatting simultaneously.

“Do you miss me, Brienne?” he asked, without context or reason.

“What...n...no,” she stammered, obviously taken aback by his question. Had he made her uncomfortable?

“I was just kidding,” he said quickly “Let’s get back to work.”

“There it is!” she cried out, as soon as she had identified the offending piece of code “This variable here, is the culprit. It has not been reset inside the loop, causing it to have the same value every time. The exit condition will never be met, so it keeps going on and on--”

“Increment it by one at the start of the loop, and it’ll work like a charm,” Jaime chimed in, sharing her excitement in having cracked the problem so easily “Oh, Brienne, I could kiss you…”

What followed was a spell of pin-drop silence.

“I mean...I didn’t mean it literally…” Jaime didn’t know what to say.

“Relax, Jaime,” she sounded unaffected by his accidental remark “It was just a slip of the tongue. Forget it.”

“Thanks,” Jaime was relieved that she had not taken offence.

“You’re welcome.”

There was one more thing he wanted to ask before they disconnected. “Why don’t we try video calling the next time?” He hoped she wouldn’t refuse.

“Sure, why not?”

“Great!” Jaime’s heart soared “VC always works better than plain, boring audio.”

“Bye, Jaime, I’ve got to go now.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” Disconnecting the call, he turned around to see Bronn lurking behind him.

“Was it her again?”

“Who?” Jaime had grown tired of Bronn’s insatiable appetite for potential gossip.

“Your _wench,”_ Bronn made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world “Who else?”

“How do you manage to eavesdrop on me everytime?” Jaime was surprised at his persistence.

“I didn’t have to eavesdrop. You were audible across half the floor,” Bronn quipped “And, you still haven’t answered me.”

“Yes, I was talking to her,” Jaime admitted “Does it matter, though?”

“It doesn’t,” Bronn waved his hand dismissively “Just general curiosity, considering you just wanted to kiss her.”

“That was just an expression,” Jaime mumbled, his ears growing warm.

“I don’t think so,” Bronn was grinning now, irritating Jaime further “That was a heartfelt desire to kiss your wench.”

“Don’t you dare call her _wench,”_ Jaime snapped at him.

“I’m sorry,” Bronn’s grin widened “I forgot that the nickname was exclusively for your use only. Today you’re possessive about the nickname, tomorrow you might end up becoming possessive about the lady herself...”

“What do you mean?” Jaime glared at him.

“Can’t you take a joke, Lannister?” Bronn was enjoying himself at Jaime’s expense “I know Cersei is your girlfriend, I’m just teasing you.”

“Speaking of Cersei,” Jaime glanced at his watch “I have to rush home and get ready, I’m meeting her for dinner tonight.”

“Have fun,” Bronn winked at him “I’m off for dinner too, with my air hostess girlfriend. I’ll be home late.”

“I can’t afford to spend the night with Cersei,” Jaime groaned “I have to be up early tomorrow. Need to catch up on my sleep.”

+++++

Jaime’s dinner date with Cersei was as fantastic as he had expected it to be. He had taken her to a fancy restaurant at the other end of the city, and by the time they were back, it was past 11 p.m. He kissed her goodnight and entered his apartment. The lights were out, obviously Bronn wasn’t back yet.

Jaime lay on his bed, wide awake, falling asleep anytime soon seemed out of question. He sprang out of bed and soon he was at the desk, switching on his laptop. It must be only around 9:30 now in Westeros, a good time to talk to Brienne. He called her on their official VC application, waiting for her to respond.

“Hi, Jaime,” he sat there, stunned, as she came into focus. Totally unprepared for what he saw, he was left staring at her, speechless. Brienne was wearing a transluscent white negligee, with a neckline so deep that it hardly left anything to imagination.

“Hello, Jaime,” she called out again.

“Hey!” he replied, finally coming out of his trance.

An unpleasant thought now filled his head. _Why the fuck was she wearing this revealing dress?_ A hundred probable reasons tormented his mind.

“Is anyone with you tonight, wench?” he asked, desperately praying for a negative response.

“No,” she looked puzzled “I’m alone.”

Good, so she wasn’t dating anybody. Jaime heaved a sigh of relief. Not that it mattered to him, ofcourse. Her love life was none of his business.

“What is it?” she went on, when he was silent.

“Sorry?” he blinked, unable to grasp the context. He had scarcely been listening to her, distracted by the curvy outline of her breasts that were accentuated by the figure hugging nightgown. Having always seen her in trousers and formal shirts, this was, if he had to put it politely, a welcome change from the routine.

“What did you call me for?” she repeated “Anything that I can help you with?”

“Can’t I just call you to talk to you?” He was irritated with this offer for help everytime he called her. “Does it always have to be a request for help?”

She coloured a bit. “No, it doesn’t. Tell me, how was your day?”

“Largely good, just a bit chaotic, but sorted out, all thanks to you,” he said, smiling “So how was the start of your new project?”

Her face fell. “Not as interesting as I had anticipated it to be.”

“Let’s hope it gets better,” Jaime consoled her “If not, you always have the Iron Bank project as a fall-back plan.”

“You know my stand on that, Jaime,” she said wearily “Not gonna happen.”

“You look different,” he blurted out, unable to stand it any longer.

Brienne squirmed, instantly conscious of her semi-clad state. “Hold on for a sec,” she got up, and as she walked away from the camera, he caught a glimpse of her bare thighs, shapely and fit, followed by legs that never seemed to end. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, forcing himself back to his senses.

She was back in a minute, wrapped in a robe that covered her completely. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how inappropriate my attire was,” she blushed “It was a gift from Sansa, with a request to put it to use if I ever got together with Renly. Now that Renly is out of bounds, I had to wear it sometime or the other. Can’t let a gift go waste, can I?” she sighed, looking downcast as she mentioned Renly.

_She’s still in love with that cunt!_

“You’re better off not wearing that thing. It doesn’t suit you,” Jaime said brusquely. Pissed off that she was still pining for Renly, he had meant to imply that Renly didn’t deserve this much attention, but somehow, what he said came out entirely wrong. Only after the words were out of his mouth did he realize how rude he sounded.

He could see the hurt in her eyes. “I agree, ugly and mannish that I am, I don’t deserve such feminine clothes. Thank you for reminding me of that, Jaime.”

“That’s not what I meant--” Jaime instantly regretted his insensitive comment.

“Goodnight, Jaime,” she signed off abruptly before he could say another word. Staring at the chat window long after she had left, Jaime felt like kicking himself for his stupidity.

“Was it Brienne?”

Jaime was shocked to see Bronn at his shoulder. “Have you been spying on me?” he asked, exasperated.

“No, what would I gain by that?” he asked in a matter-of-fact tone “It’s past 1 in the night, and the lights were still on in your room. The door was open, and I came to check on you.”

“Yes, I was talking to her.”

“Video calling, huh?” Bronn raised his eyebrows.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, did I say anything was wrong?” he shrugged “You know me, just curious as usual.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Jaime shut down his laptop and retired to bed. The moment he closed his eyes, his head was full of vivid images of the wench in the skimpy outfit. Pushing the disturbing thoughts away, he resolved to apologise to her tomorrow for his unintentional rude behaviour.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time-zone difference is a figment of my imagination.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne takes an important decision...

_Just five more minutes please,_ Brienne groaned to herself, fumbling around the bed for her phone. Putting the alarm on snooze, she snuggled into her blanket again, burying her face in the pillow. A little more sleep wouldn’t hurt. She desperately craved another few minutes of rest, but couldn’t go back to sleep and ended up tossing and turning, just as she had been for most part of the night. A couple of minutes later, she switched off the alarm and sat up, clutching her head. Headaches had become pretty common these days due to her consistently irregular sleep pattern.

Squinting her eyes, she noted the time - 7:00. Yawning, she dragged herself off the bed. As she went about her morning routine, her heart sank at the recollection of her conversation with Jaime last night. _I am truly ugly,_ she thought, looking at herself in the mirror in her bedroom, _and this stupid gown makes me look even more hideous!_ Instantly, she resolved to hide the thing away at the bottom of her cupboard and never look at it again. As for Jaime’s insult, she had to learn to accept and live with the painful fact that no man would ever find her even ordinary, let alone attractive.

The vivid memory of Jaime’s face when she bid him goodbye on Saturday kept haunting her every now and then, the sinking feeling that she was never going to see him again refusing to leave her head. Her excitement when he had called her yesterday was unfortunately short lived. After all, Jaime had ended up like all the other men she had encountered.

 _All of them are the same! A pretty face, a shapely figure and big breasts-that's all there is to women in their eyes._ And Jaime Lannister was no exception, she mused angrily, brushing her teeth with extra vigour.

Her phone sprang to life, jarringly disturbing the peace and quiet of the early hour. She leaned out of the bathroom to grab the phone to check who was calling. _Jaime_ . Frowning, she tossed it aside, in no mood to engage in a debate with him after what had transpired between them last night. The best thing for her now would be to clearly demarcate her personal life from her job. Work related calls were fine, while personal talk would be a definite no. She wondered why he was calling now. _If it’s for work, it can wait until I reach office,_ she decided, ignoring her phone while it lay there, ringing.

In a way, it was good that Jaime was miles away. Out of sight meant out of mind, which suited her fine. She didn’t have to look at his face everyday! And no more of those video calls, a normal phone would do just fine for professional talk. She made a mental note to make it clear the next time they spoke, _if they spoke_.

Brienne stepped into the shower, dreading yet another monotonous day of her new project. Stripping completely, she closed her eyes, allowing the hot stream of water to wash away her sleep and fatigue. But the moment she shut her eyes, all she could see was Jaime Lannister’s handsome face, his emerald eyes fixed on her the way they did whenever he looked at her.

 _What would he look like, shirtless?_ Since the day she had seen him in that chest-hugging tee which clearly highlighted his excellent physique, well defined chest and toned biceps, the thought had crossed her mind multiple times. _What would it feel like to be touched by him--_

Alarmed, she immediately opened her eyes, frantically wanting to push the troublesome vision away. _Damn!_ She had forgotten that she had soap all over her face, and now in her eyes. Swearing under her breath, she rinsed her smarting eyes, and then spent the reminder of her bath scrubbing herself furiously, particularly her inner thighs, wishing away the frustratingly sexy images of Jaime that were now all over her muddled mind.

_Maybe a cold shower would have been a better idea._

+++++

“You seem to be in a strange mood today,” Brienne was so absorbed in her own world, that she failed to notice that Sansa had occupied the chair next to her.

“I’m fine,” she forced herself back to normalcy. It didn’t make sense to mull over Jaime’s abrasive statement anymore. So many people had commented on her appearance all her life. How was he different from the others? And how did one more critical opinion matter?

“Tell me,” she focussed her attention on Sansa. “How can I help you?”

“I just came to talk to you,” Sansa looked concerned. “I’ve been observing you for a while, you seem to be--” she fumbled for words “--I dunno, lost?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Brienne tried to dismiss it with a laugh.

“Are you still brooding about Renly?”

“No!” Brienne cried out reflexively. Renly was long gone and forgotten as far as she was concerned, out of her sight, purged from her system and ousted from her heart.

“Ohooo!” Sansa exclaimed loudly, her eyes widening in excitement. “Now I get it.” Her lips curled in a sly smile.

Brienne gave her a puzzled expression, deciding it was best to pretend ignorance, while bracing herself for the onslaught that was to come.

“It’s _him_ , isn’t it?” Sansa teased.

“He’s not even here!” Brienne fought to keep her voice steady.

“How do you know who I’m referring to?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Brienne muttered irritably.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

“No, quite the contrary, actually. It’s good riddance that he’s gone.” _Particularly after what happened last night._

“You _do_ miss him, Brienne. And something’s obviously wrong. What is it?”

Despite wanting to hold back, Brienne found herself pouring her heart out to Sansa. Once she had heard the whole story, the girl looked at her in amazement.

“You did a VC wearing that sexy nightie I gave you?” her eyes were round with surprise and disbelief.

“Yes, I just happened to be wearing it when he called. It didn’t occur to me that--”

“How did he react?” Sansa’s voice quivered with excitement, her eyes reflecting her inner imagination, which Brienne tried not to think of.

“React?”

“I mean, was he--” lowering her voice to a whisper, Sansa looked around to make sure they were alone “-- _aroused?”_

“How do I know?” Brienne cried out, her voice more high pitched than usual. “Was I supposed to observe him that closely?”

“I would have,” Sansa waggled her eyebrows. “If I were in your place.”

Brienne felt herself blush. “I didn’t--” she mumbled “-- _look_.”

“You didn’t have to specifically look _there_ ,” Sansa had a wicked smile on her face. “There are other signs, you see--”

“I don’t think, I want to get into those details, Sansa,” Brienne thought it safe to interrupt her before the discussion got past her comfort zone. “The bottom line is that he finds me ugly. So in all likelihood, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“He’s a man, Brienne, his body is bound to respond. Such things happen when you dress provocatively in front of men.”

“It wasn’t intentional, and before you let your imagination run wild--” Brienne paused to catch her breath “--he couldn’t even bear to look at me.”

“Did he actually tell you that you’re ugly?”

“That was what he meant. He looked extremely uncomfortable--”

“We don’t know what he meant, or why he made that statement,” Sansa interrupted her. “He doesn’t seem to be the man who--” she hesitated. “He respects you, Brienne. It is evident in the way he looks at you.”

“I thought so too, and I was under the impression that he’s changed over the last year,” Brienne said coldly. “But I’ve been proved wrong. He’s still the same old mean Jaime who can’t think of people beyond their physical attributes.” _His Cersei might be the ultimate beauty, his standard for all the other women on earth. The rest of us are just lesser mortals,_ she surmised angrily.

“I doubt that,” Sansa shook her head. “He holds you in high regard. That, I’m 100% sure of. I don’t have much of an opinion about the man, but this is one thing I’m confident that I am right about.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Brienne had already decided to keep her equation with Jaime at a strictly professional level. “Henceforth, if I speak to him, it’s only going to be for work. No more social calls.”

“That’s up to you,” Sansa shrugged. “I’m just saying, he isn’t that bad.”

“Forget about him,” Brienne desperately wanted to change the subject. “How’re you getting along with Tyrion? He’s certainly nicer than Jaime.”

“He’s nice, treats the team well,” Sansa agreed reluctantly. “But he’s not you. I wish, you were still around to see this project through.”

Brienne’s face fell at the thought of the daily monotony she was being subjected to. The new project was anything but exciting, but now that she had decided to jump into it, there was no choice but to stick around.

“Tyrion is nice, but I don’t like this new guy, Baelish,” Sansa grumbled. “Have you met him before?”

“No,” Brienne was clueless about this Baelish.

“He’s joining the team as an auditor. Tyrion introduced him to us this morning, and I kind of feel he’s....ugh.”

“Why?”

“I hate the way he keeps staring at me,” Sansa looked uncomfortable. “The lesser I see of him, the better. Anyway, how’s life in the new team?”

“Not too good,” Brienne admitted sullenly, unable to hide her disappointment. The workaholic in her was sorely disappointed, challenging projects being her thing rather than dull iterative customizations for already stable clients.

“Why don’t you come back then?” Sansa suggested, her pretty face brightening up at the prospect. “I’m sure, Robert will only be too happy to have you in his team again.”

“Yes, but…” Brienne didn’t really have a counter-argument this time, except for the same old no-travel excuse. Coming to think of it, travelling seemed far better than having to put up with working like a drone for the next couple of years.

“You might have to go to Braavos, but isn’t that better than having your brain rusted like this?”

Food for thought, but definitely not a decision to be taken on a whim. Besides, if she travelled, she would have to face Jaime again every single minute of her waking time, for onsite implementations demanded a minimum of a fourteen to sixteen hour work schedule.

_Am I really prepared to go through all that again? Do I really want to tolerate Jaime?_

“I’m not sure,” she said out aloud. “I’ll give it a thought, Sansa.”

“I hope you take the right decision,” Sansa left, looking happier than before.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Countless spreadsheets to be filled, detailed project plans to be made, all in all, the dullest and the most mechanically mundane type of tasks that she had ever had the misfortune to get herself into. Every few minutes, she found herself checking her phone for missed calls. _What for, exactly? He’s not going to call._

Finally the long and dreary day came to an end. Packing up her stuff, she left her desk when her phone rang. Jaime, again. 7 p.m local time would mean 9:30 in the night in Braavos, which probably meant that he was home. After a few seconds of deliberation, she answered the phone.

“Is this the right time to talk to you, Brienne?”

“It depends on what you’re calling for,” she was not interested in small talk.

“I would’ve called you earlier, but I need your full attention.”

“You have it,” she said curtly, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

“About what I said last night--” he began tentatively.

“What about it?” she snapped. “Is there anything else left to say? Any insults that you had forgotten to hurl at me?”

“Oh, come on, wench--”

“Don’t call me that ever again,” she said, gritting her teeth. She had begun to hate that word since last night.

“Fine,” he said hastily. “I won’t, if you don’t like it, but just hear me out, _please?_ ”

“Very well, go on.”

“I’m sorry, Brienne,” she heard him sigh. “I didn’t mean to…That was unworthy. Forgive me, alright?”

“Fine.”

“What?”

“I meant, apology accepted,” she made herself clear, deciding there was no point dragging this any further. _He can choose to think whatever he wants about me. That’s not going to bother me anymore._

“Great!” she could hear the relief in his voice. “We’re good then?”

“Hmm.”

“Can we have a VC tonight, wench?” he sounded hopeful.

 _That’s the last thing I want._ “What for? You have my phone number. Regular calls are perfectly fine to discuss work, and I don’t have much time for socializing.”

“Ohh, okay. No problem then,” the disappointment was evident in his tone.

 _I’m not giving you any more chances to mock me, Mr. Lannister!_ “And one more thing, Jaime, _stop calling me wench._ I don’t like it. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you, Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s all. Good night.”

“Good night, Jaime.”

As she drove home, Jaime was all she could think about. She had done a fantastic job keeping him at arm’s length, but how was she going to ignore her own idiotic brain which just didn’t seem to let go of him? There were too many unanswered questions where it concerned him. What had he meant when he had told her that life without her was dull in Braavos? And what was in his mind when he had expressed an interest to kiss her? Ofcourse that was accidental, he was back with Cersei and he didn’t mean it, did he?

+++++

Brienne was busy making herself a well-deserved cup of coffee when she realized that she had company.

“Sansa’s a nice girl,” Tyrion’s face brightened as he mentioned her. “A quick learner, keen and eager to take up anything that has been assigned to her.”

Jaime was probably right. Tyrion did seem to have a thing for Sansa. “She thinks highly about you as well,” Brienne returned his smile. “The other day, she happened to tell me about how accommodative and supportive you are.”

“That’s the least a manager can do for his team, isn’t it?” he beamed. “By the way, how’s your work progressing?” Her expression might have reflected her emotions, for he went on without waiting for her response. “Dull?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. A month had gone by since Jaime’s departure and the commencement of her new assignment, and Tyrion was the second person to remind her that she was stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Why don’t you rejoin our project?” Tyrion suggested. “My brother would be happy if you went to Braavos.”

“I doubt it,” she retorted. _Your brother is only happy taunting me._

“I didn’t mean just him. Renly and Jon as well,” he quickly corrected himself. “One more hand is a help to all of them.”

“I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Listen, Brienne,” Tyrion fiddled with his mug uncomfortably. “If my brother is the reason for you to stay out of the project--”

“He’s not the reason, nor is Renly,” she decided to make her stand clear. Why on earth did people think she was incapable of keeping her personal life out of this?

“I assumed so,” he heaved a sigh of relief. “But thought it better to cross-check.”

“Don’t worry,” she gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s not about him.”

“There’s one thing I want you to know,” he regarded her closely. “My brother may come across as harsh and insensitive, but he’s not as bad as you probably perceive him to be. Deep down, he’s a nice guy, so I’d advise you not to take everything he says literally.”

“I know,” Brienne agreed, recollecting that Jaime had been the only one to talk to her when she was unwell. _But I’m in no mood to get insulted again._

“You do?” Tyrion raised his brows suspiciously.

Brienne decided not to answer that and politely excused herself. It was time to get back to work.

“I hope you reconsider Iron Bank again, Brienne--”

They were distracted by a short, slender figure who entered the pantry.

“Brienne, meet Petyr Baelish,” Tyrion introduced the man who had just walked in. “He’s going to be managing the quality checks and various audits for the offshore releases. He’ll be working with my team.” He turned to the stranger. “This is Brienne Tarth,” he said, as Baelish shook her hand. “She’s undoubtedly one of the most efficient module experts I’ve had the privilege to work with.”

Brienne had a bad feeling about this man. There was something creepy about him, something very wrong, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Well, she didn’t like Jaime too, when they had started, but things worked out pretty well later. So maybe it was just her imagination...

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Baelish,” she smiled, brushing aside her discomfort.

“So am I, Brienne,” he gave her a smile that made her cringe. “Call me Petyr.”

Having no inclination to start a conversation with him, Brienne looked at her watch and left the place lamenting that the ten minute coffee break had extended to nearly half an hour. On the way back to her desk, her mind went back to Braavos. Having deliberated about it for over a month, she had finally decided to give it a go. Without further delay, she took a detour to Robert’s cabin.

“You want to return to the Iron Bank project?” Robert asked her in disbelief.

“Yes, sir.”

“You do know that you would have to travel, right? There’s not much work here in offshore support.”

“I’m fine with that, sir.”

“Done then,” Robert said hastily, as if worried that Brienne might change her mind if he delayed his consent. “I’ll talk to the travel department and get your formalities initiated as soon as possible.”

“Thank you,” she left the room, wondering if she had done the right thing.

As she drove home that evening, there was only one question in her mind. _How do I cope with Jaime Lannister in Braavos?_

 

 

 

 

_*****_

 

 

 

 

Jaime had just hung up the phone after a call with Brienne. Precise, and to the point, she had not stretched the call for even a second more than necessary.

 _A month gone by, and she’s still angry with me!_ He had done all he could, he had apologised and made every effort to be friendly and get back into her good books. There was nothing more he could do beyond that. If she still chose to be cold and professional, then he was fine with that, good riddance. It wasn’t as if he had any special interest in her.

“Come on, Lannister,” Bronn called out from across the floor. “Smoke break.”

Jaime opened his drawer to pick up his lighter, when he suddenly remembered Brienne’s advice to cut down. “You go ahead,” he said, getting back to his laptop.

Bronn gave him a stunned look of surprise and immediately strode across the floor to him. “You okay, buddy?” he touched Jaime’s forehead, as if checking for a fever.

“I’m fine,” Jaime pulled away, embarrassed. “I feel I’m smoking too much these days.”

“You didn’t feel like that yesterday,” Bronn peered at him keenly. “You always smoke like a chimney!”

“I’ve been thinking about cutting down for long,” he admitted. “Ever since she--” he stopped, immediately cursing his stupidity for revealing too much. Excessive information leakage to Bronn was never a good sign. It always meant that he was in for a difficult time.

“She?” Bronn blinked at first, then broke into a smirk as a look of comprehension dawned on his face. “Aye, you ought to listen to her.” He gave him a sly wink.

“Stop drawing conclusions from every little statement of mine,” Jaime lashed out at him, irritated. “It was something she had mentioned long back--”

“And you happen to remember it today because you…” he frowned slightly. “Do you miss her, Lannister?”

“Why would I?”

“Don’t answer a question with another question, dude!”

“I choose not to answer then,” Jaime retorted.

“Which confirms that you miss her,” Bronn quipped. “And you’re upset about something. What’s wrong? Did you two have an argument?”

He didn’t miss her, nor would he call her again unless he was compelled to, especially since she had made it crystal clear that she didn’t solicit his friendship any more.

“You did something, didn’t you? You offended her!” Bronn gave him a long hard look. “You and your caustic tongue, I’m surprised that she even tolerated you for this long.”

“Well…” Jaime began sheepishly. It was, no doubt, his fault. He ended up relating the entire VC exchange to Bronn, whose expression shifted from mild amusement to a sly grin to disgusted disapproval.

“You actually said that to her?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Jaime scratched his head, ashamed at the recollection of his nastiness. “I was just trying to mask--” he stopped. Bronn didn’t have to know every damn thing about him.

“Mask what, exactly?” Bronn was quick to pick on subtle hints.

When Jaime remained silent, he leaned closer. “Let me guess, your attraction to her which has become very obvious?” he prompted, his voice almost a whisper so that he was audible only to Jaime. “Or, were you aroused at the sight of her in that--”

“Stop picturing her like that,” Jaime roared. “Your dirty mind can go to any extent.”

“I'm not the one who gets all hot and bothered every time he thinks about her,” he smirked. “And it's not my dirty mind which is undressing her this very minute as we speak.”

Jaime felt his face grow hot. As usual, Bronn was bang on target with his inference. Ever since he had set his eyes on the wench in that barely-there outfit, he had been unable to get the vision out of his head. Thankfully, his _predicament_ had been off-camera and fortunately invisible to Brienne. But he couldn’t help picturing what it would feel like to peel the damn thing off her and get his hands all over--

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t stare,” he admitted, deciding not to conceal the entire truth. “But I am not attracted to her. Staring at a scantily clad woman is natural. You’d do it too!”

“Aye,” Bronn agreed. “But I’d openly admit it and try to look for opportunities to fook her. That’s the difference between you and me, Lannister.”

“The only woman I’d ever want to _fook_ is Cersei,” Jaime asserted, just in case Bronn had any different ideas. The reaction to Brienne had just been a reflex, a case of out-of-control hormones.

“If you say so,” Bronn shrugged.

“I mean it,” Jaime said emphatically. “For your information, Brienne has made it very clear that she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. Since that day, she has been professional, discussing only work related matters with me.”

“Why is that a problem for you?” Bronn looked curious.

“I’m fine with it,” Jaime said defiantly. “If she chooses to overreact, that’s not my problem. I might as well do as she says and avoid crossing her path. Seems to be a better option to me.”

“In that case, you are in for a surprise, my friend,” Bronn was smiling. “You’re going to have trouble avoiding her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s coming here, I just happened to get the news from Tyrion today.”

So Bronn knew, and he didn’t. She had not bothered to mention it when she had spoken to him sometime back. Not that it affected him, it was none of his business anymore.

He didn’t know whether to be happy or irritated with this news. While a tiny part of him did a little dance at the anticipation of seeing the wench again, the rational bit of his brain had to agree with Bronn that her arrival was going to be a problem. He had inadvertently managed to spoil his relations with her after a year of building a rapport, and working with a person he was now uncomfortable with, and that too in such close quarters was going to be a challenge for both of them.

Well, he had done his bit and tried to make amends. If she didn’t bother accepting his apology and had made up her mind to hate him, he couldn't do anything about it. _I care a damn about her! She can ignore me if she wants to, and I plan to do exactly the same._

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes to Braavos.

“Brienne, meet Shae,” Tyrion introduced her to a pretty, dark haired woman. “She’s going to be working with Baelish from today.”

“Welcome to the team, Shae,” Brienne gave her a warm smile. Shae reciprocated, thanking her.

“Brienne, Welcome back to you too,” Sansa greeted her. “I heard about your travel. Congratulations!” The genuineness of her happiness was infectious, filling Brienne with a wave of positivity.

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad, you took the right decision,” Tyrion smiled encouragingly. “Best wishes for your new assignment.”

“I don’t know about that,” Brienne still wondered if she had done the right thing or not. “But if I have to endure one more day of monotonous spreadsheets, I’m going to jump from this floor.”

“I’m sure there’ll be no need for that,” Tyrion laughed. “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he left with Shae, while Sansa lingered on, waiting to talk to Brienne in private.

“Soooo,” she began, a teasing smile dancing on her lips.

“What?” Sansa's evil smiles were never a good sign.

“Back to your handsome hero from next week?”

“He is NOT my hero.” The repeated unnecessary reference to Jaime was beginning to get on her nerves.

“No doubt, he is,” Sansa insisted. “After what he did for you in Braavos.”

“What?” This was news to her.

“Aren’t you aware?” Sansa looked genuinely surprised.

“When did this happen?” Brienne's curiosity got the better of her. “How am I concerned? And what did he do?”

“I don’t know the exact details, but he got into an argument with Renly and Loras. Renly said something nasty about you and Jaime nearly punched him in the face,” Sansa paused to observe her closely. “Now why would he do that for you, hmmm?”

“How do you know all this?” Brienne was so astonished that she found it difficult to digest this piece of information. Sansa had a point. Why would he act in her defence?

“I have my sources,” Sansa had a mysterious air about her. “Reliable sources, so I’m 100% sure it is true.”

Despite her differences with Jaime, Brienne wanted this to be true. Her heart warmed at the thought of someone standing up to her, particularly Jaime. She tried to hide a smile.

“Is that a smile?” nothing ever escaped Sansa’s keen observation. “You’re secretly glad he rescued you, aren’t you? He really is your knight in shining armour, Brienne!” she went on dreamily. “Coming to think of it, he does have the personality of a medieval knight-the handsome looks, the strapping build, the charisma and the charm--”

“Sansa!” Brienne had to put an end to this before the girl could start singing verses in his praise.

“Why are you blushing, Brienne?” Sansa teased her again. “I just stated facts. Ohh, I can’t imagine what’s gonna happen when you land there--”

“God, Sansa, this is not a bloody fairy tale. I’m no princess, nor is he some Prince Charming,” Brienne cut in indignantly. “I’m going there for a project that’s going to eat up 15-18 hours of my day. There’s going to be no time for any kind of office romance.”

“Who said anything about a romance?” Sansa said sharply. “I just meant to say that you’ll both gel well, given that you share a good rapport and you’ve worked together… unless romance is on _your_ mind. Not a bad idea, ma’am,” she winked, giving Brienne a playful punch on the arm.

“I’m no longer on speaking terms with him,” Brienne said glumly, wishing she had not over-reacted. The man had apologized and she should have stopped at that. Things wouldn’t have turned out this sour had she simply accepted his apology and let the matter be.

Sansa waved her hand, unperturbed. “All that will change when you see him again. How long can you both ignore each other? I’ve seen how deep your friendship is. Next to me, he’s the best you have.”

_I don’t think he’d ever want to talk to me again, after the way I spoke to him that day…_

“Have you told him you’re going there on Saturday?”

“I told Bronn, so I guess he knows.”

“Did you not personally inform him yesterday?” Sansa looked surprised. “I thought you would’ve told him before any of us.”

“It didn’t...strike me,” Brienne mumbled, regretting her mistake. “I’ll call him today.”

“Do it now,” Sansa patted her shoulder and left, leaving Brienne thinking about the Renly episode again. She smiled to herself as she pulled out her phone to call him. She had to discuss an issue with him as well for which she needed his help.

“Hey,” she said, a bit nervous hearing his voice again. “It’s me.”

“Yes, Brienne?” his tone was crisp and professional. _Can’t blame him,_ she thought, a tad disappointed. The usual warmth in his voice whenever he addressed her as _wench_ was absent.

“Listen, umm…” she licked her lips, struggling to sustain the conversation. “I’ll be landing there on Saturday evening.”

“Bronn told me.” That was it, once again to the point, and no other reaction. His voice was completely devoid of emotion. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, actually,” Brienne carried on, totally demoralized with his cold response so far. “I need some help with the online transaction processing flow--”

“Hold on, something’s just come up,” he cut her, a hint of urgency in his voice. “I’ve got to go. Good day, Brienne, I’ll call you later.” He disconnected before she could even respond, leaving her hurt and angry.

 _This is what I get for unconditionally helping him day in and day out._ Her heart sank as she remembered every minute she spent with him, sorting out his issues. Setting aside her personal involvement in this matter, she decided to ignore this unpleasant conversation and opened her mailbox to send out an email instead. If he wanted official communication, that’s what he would get.

_Hi Jaime,_

_With reference to our communication, I need some guidance for understanding the technical workflow for online transaction processing. I would request you to let me know a suitable time for a call today to discuss._

_Thanks in advance._

_Regards,_

_Brienne._

She re-read the mail about a couple of times before hitting the send button.

A couple of hours later when there was no reply, Brienne decided to try other channels and approach Bronn instead. She needed answers, and she had to get them from one source or another. Hurt with the way Jaime had begun to ignore her, she punched in Bronn’s number.

“I need some help, Bronn,” she came directly to the point when he answered and went on to explain her requirement.

“Sure, I have a document which I can share in the next five minutes,” Bronn paused for a second. “Jaime has the same as well. Didn’t you ask him first?”

“I did,” she tried not to sound too low. “He seemed to be busy, didn’t have the time to hear me out.”

“Ah,” Bronn had apparently decided to stop the discussion about Jaime at that. “Sent you the email, hope it helps.”

“Thanks, Bronn,” she hung up, wondering if Bronn knew about her problem with Jaime.

A dozen thoughts ran through her head. Did Jaime refuse to help her on purpose? Why did he cut her off so abruptly? How would he treat her once she reached there? Had he forgotten her the moment he met Cersei?

_Wait, why am I comparing myself with Cersei? Cersei is his lover, while I’m just his… What am I, really?_

The question remained unanswered in her head when Sansa stormed into her bay. “Coffee, now!” she sounded agitated.

“What’s wrong?” Brienne asked, once they had settled down in a remote corner of the pantry where they wouldn’t be overheard.

“That Baelish,” Sansa had a look of disgust on her face. “I can’t stand the way that man looks at me. Today he sat down next to me in a meeting, drawing his chair a bit too close for comfort.”

Brienne was furious. “You should report this to HR. We can’t let such people go free. We have sexual harassment laws in place for a reason.”

“I will,” Sansa sighed. “If it happens again. This time, Tyrion told him off.”

“Really?” Brienne was impressed. “How did he handle the situation?”

“I don’t know. He saw that I was uncomfortable, told me to leave the room and spoke to that creep in private,” Sansa said. “When he had finished, he called me in and told me not to worry, asked me to report straight to him if anyone tried to mess with me.”

“That’s really good,” Brienne’s respect for Tyrion went up another level. “He’s so protective of you.”

“I know,” Sansa turned a bright shade of pink. “I’ve changed my opinion about him. He’s nice,” she smiled.

“Do you have crush on your boss, Sansa?” Brienne teased, for a change enjoying the reversal in their roles.

“No!” the girl exclaimed. “I just respect him, that’s all! He’s not Jaime, nor am I you.”

“And may I ask what you think is going on between Jaime and me?” Brienne had to know, despite dreading the answer. Office gossips were counterproductive and had to be nipped in the bud.

“Do you want me to get started on that?” Sansa asked her wearily. “The whole floor talks about you. Renly made a similar comment, which is why Jaime got so aggressive.”

Brienne’s face fell. So that was the truth. Unable to bear the gossip linking him to her, Jaime had resorted to such extreme measures. She had to admit, when he was here they had a beautiful friendship. But she had ruined it all by her behaviour. While she had been right in her place to tell him off for insulting her, he had apologized profusely, and many times. She could have let the matter be instead of adopting a curt and business-like attitude with him.

No wonder he had been terse that morning. Checking her inbox again, she saw a notification of a reply from Jaime.

_Hi Brienne,_

_Sorry, couldn’t talk to you as I was tied up with something. I just happened to read your email. As I understand, Bronn has shared the document with you. You could run through it and let either of us know if you have any further queries._

_Regards,_

_Jaime._

_‘Let either of us know’,_ she went back to that sentence, not ‘ _me’._ The implied meaning of his point being that she had to call Bronn first, only if he couldn’t help, she was to approach him. Fine, if this was how he chose to communicate, he was free to have it his way. She replied with a short ‘ _Thank you’_ and deleted the email, never wanting to hear from him again.

+++++

Brienne landed in Braavos around 6 p.m on Saturday. As soon as she had settled down in her apartment, she decided to pay a visit to the office to meet the gang. All alone in an alien country, she craved for some familiar faces. Since it was the weekend, no one but their team would be present in office. So what better time than this to get herself acclimatized to her new surroundings?

“Hey, Brienne,” Bronn greeted her with a huge grin and a bear-hug as soon as she reached their floor. “Come on, let me show you to your desk. You’re seated next to me.” He led her to one of the cubicles where there were three bays. “This one’s yours,” he pointed to one of them. “Why don’t you put your stuff away and settle down, while I arrange for your login credentials and other logistics.”

“Who’s the third occupant of our bay?” she pointed to the vacant desk behind her.

“Jaime.” _Why am I not surprised?_

“Is he not in office today?” her heart beat harder at the anticipation of seeing him again, despite all their petty arguments.

“He’s out on a coffee break with Cersei,” he replied.

“Ohh,” she grew quiet and kept her handbag in the locker, trying not to picture him with Cersei.

“You okay, Brienne?” Bronn peered at her.

“Fine, I’m fine,” she forced herself to get back to normal, remembering to keep things strictly professional with Jaime.

“Are you upset hearing about Cersei?” he asked carefully.

“No, why would I be?” she wondered how people could read her expressions as clearly as a book.

“I just thought…” Bronn froze mid-sentence. “Never mind, there he is,” he gestured behind her.

Brienne spun around, her pulse immediately rising. Wearing shorts and a tight fitting tee with the top two buttons tantalizingly open, Jaime looked as handsome as ever. His hair was now closely cropped and the beard was gone, replaced by a sexy stubble. The open buttons were just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his chest hair which triggered strange sensations inside her.

“Hello, Brienne,” he gave her a short nod before settling down on his chair. “Had a good trip?” His tone was polite and courteous, but he avoided looking at her, maintaining eye contact only when absolutely necessary.

“Yes, I reached okay, thanks,” she tried hard not to stare at his chest or his worst still, his thighs. _Shorts should be banned at workplaces,_ she concluded angrily, _even on saturdays. I’m not even supposed to be talking to him, let alone gawking at him like a horny sixteen year old with a crush on a movie-star._

Jaime logged into his laptop. “Why don’t you settle down first? We can discuss on what to get started with on Monday morning.” That was all. He said no more, and quietly returned to his work without even bothering to spare her a second look.

“Why don’t I show you around the rest of the floor?” Bronn got up, locking his machine. “Today’s a holiday, so the bankers won’t be in, so it’ll just be our folks. You can say hello to them, they’ve all been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

_Everyone except Jaime..._

Thankful for the invitation, Brienne was relieved to get away from Jaime. She left with Bronn, taking care not to look in Jaime’s direction.

“Hey, Brienne,” called out a familiar voice as soon as they stepped out of their cubicle. “Here she is,” Renly said loudly, apparently to Loras who sat next to him. “Can’t bear to be away from your lover, can you? No wonder you came down all the way here just to be with him--”

“Come with me, you don’t have to listen to him,” Bronn tried to pull her away, but Brienne didn’t budge. Furious, she wanted to give him a piece of her mind. “Let me go and talk to him, Bronn. Don’t worry, I can handle him.”

She stormed to his desk, mentally running through whatever she wanted to say to him, but Jaime was there before her.

“What did I tell you the last time, Renly?” his voice was cold and menacing. “You won’t talk about her like this anymore.”

“Or else?” Renly prompted. “What’re you going to do? Try to break my nose again?”

Jaime slammed his fist on the table sending a sheaf of papers flying all over. “I am in charge here, my friend. If you don’t act your age, you’re on the next flight out of here.”

“We’re equals by designation,” Renly sneered. “There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me.”

“By designation, yes,” Jaime agreed. “But I’m the Project Manager here, the highest role there is for this project, at this location. So my project, my rules.”

“I don’t report to you--”

“Why don’t you try complaining to Robert?” Jaime suggested smoothly. “Give him a call today. Until then, why not make an effort to treat people with dignity, huh? Another word about her and I’m making a call back home the first thing on Monday morning.”

When Renly had nothing else to say to this, except glare at him, Jaime returned to his desk, leaving Brienne standing there with Bronn, clueless about how to react.

“Has this happened before?” Brienne decided to validate Sansa’s claim once they were out of Renly’s earshot.

“Yeah,” Bronn said, taking her around to meet Jon, Sam, Ygritte and the rest of the gang. Except Renly, and obviously Jaime, everyone else was sincerely happy to meet her. “And he was the one to defend you the last time as well.”

“Has there been any--” she hesitated, but decided to find out anyway “--gossip surrounding him and me?”

“Oh loads,” Bronn said cheerfully. “Not that you need to pay any attention to it. It’s all crap, complete nonsense, just for fun.”

“Hmm, and what about Cersei?”

“What about her?” Bronn suddenly seemed to develop an added interest in the conversation.

“Where is she staying?”

“One floor above Jaime,” he replied, before prodding on. “Aren’t you in the next building, Brienne?”

She nodded. “There weren’t any apartments available in your building.” Reminded that she had to stock up on basics like milk, sugar and groceries, she decided to excuse herself for the day. “I’ve got to go,” she looked at her watch. “Got to pick up some stuff. Where’s the nearest supermarket?” New to the place, she found it difficult to navigate her way around.

“I’ll come with you,” Bronn offered. “You’d find it difficult getting there the first time.”

“Thanks, Bronn,” she smiled. “Let’s make a move so that I get home in time to cook dinner.” She threw Jaime a sideways glance but he seemed to pretend she didn’t exist, his eyes glued to the laptop screen.

Deeply disheartened by his cold welcome, she left with Bronn, wondering how she would cope with his indifference for the days to come.

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

Lost in thoughts about Brienne, by the time Jaime reached home that night it was well past midnight. He had been wanting to tell her about that day’s phone call, but before he could get the chance to speak to her properly, she had already left with Bronn. The day she had called, interrupted by Cersei in the middle of the conversation, he had no choice but to disconnect abruptly.

After the unpleasant incident with Renly the day he landed, rumours were rife about Brienne and him. Cersei already had a fair idea about who Brienne was, and had even started asking him a few uncomfortable questions about her. He didn’t want his cousin to start getting unnecessary doubts and jumping into unwanted conclusions. Not wanting to give her a chance to interrogate him again about the wench, he decided to play safe and speak to her later. But before he could find a chance to do that, she had already shot out a formal email to him, and before he could reply to that, she had approached Bronn for help.

 _If that’s what she wants, that’s what she’ll get._ Cold, calculated and formal was her approach towards him, and that’s how he’d reciprocate.

He had resolved never to interfere in matters concerning her, but something inside him snapped on hearing Renly’s cheap comment about her that evening. Despite wanting to hold back, he couldn’t resist. He had to use all his self control to fight the urge to punch him on the face. _Why the hell am I being repeatedly over-protective about her?_

Sunday came and went in the blink of an eye, with Jaime having spent most of the day with Cersei. They lived in adjacent buildings, but he had not yet called Brienne or inquired if she needed any help.

“You were quite busy yesterday,” Jaime brought up the subject with Bronn on Monday when they were on the way to work.

“I was with Brienne, helping her settle down, Lannister. Did you even offer to help?”

“Why would I?” Jaime snapped. “She has categorically told me to stay out of her life.”

“I doubt that,” Bronn shrugged. “She said something in anger, you’ve reacted accordingly. Why don’t you two just let it go and be normal?”

“I was there when she was at office that day, and I’ve been civil to her. Anything more than that would be a breach of her personal space,” Jaime went on, unwilling to budge. “I’m going to attempt no such thing.”

“You didn’t call her back when she sought your help.”

“Why would I when she had already obtained the necessary information from you?” Jaime argued back.

“You should have,” Bronn looked at him squarely. “It’s courtesy.”

By the time Jaime could think of a suitable reply to Bronn’s accusations, they reached office and Jaime was saved the effort. He saw absolutely no problem in the way he behaved with Brienne and he would offer no defence for his actions. Wordlessly the two men began their work.

“Good morning,” Brienne entered after a while.

“Hey!” Bronn turned to her, smiling. “Welcome to your first proper workday at the new office. Tell me when you feel like grabbing a coffee. I’ll accompany you.”

“Thanks, Bronn.” She fired up her laptop, and in the meantime began searching for a place to keep her handbag.

“Hi, Brienne,” Jaime tentatively greeted her, hoping she would reply.

“Hi, Jaime,” she gave him a polite nod and went back to her screen.

“On second thoughts,” Bronn interrupted them. “I have some work, so why don’t you get that coffee with him, Brienne.”

“I don’t think I need a coffee,” Brienne said evenly. “Thanks, anyway.”

_There she is, obviously wanting to draw a line. The line is now beginning to get thicker..._

“I don’t have the time either,” Jaime muttered. And then there was complete silence for the next hour or so with the trio totally immersed in their work.

Jaime occasionally glanced in her direction. “Let me know if you need any help navigating the bug tracking system.”

“Bronn has already given me the details,” she said. “Thank you.”

_So it is Bronn who is now your new best friend!_

Bronn was out for a smoke and Jaime was angry and frustrated with her attitude. He swung his chair around, in half a mind to pick up an argument with her for no good reason, when her phone buzzed. She spoke so softly that he had to strain his ears to make out what she said. The only words he could make out was ‘cardiologist’ and ‘angiography’ before she left her desk, deciding to continue the conversation outside.

About thirty minutes later, Brienne was back. Quietly putting the phone back in its place, she returned to her laptop. In the fleeting glimpse that he could catch of her face, Jaime noticed that something was amiss. Who was the call from? He was tempted to find out more, but checked himself fearing her reaction. She might perceive it as an intrusion to her privacy. Wanting to mind his business, he decided not to ask her about it.

“I need to leave,” she got up abruptly, packing up her laptop.

Jaime turned around. “Anything wrong?”

“No,” she deliberately hid her face from him. “Just some stuff I need to take care of.” Something was definitely wrong, her tone clearly hinting that she was disturbed.

“No problem,” Jaime fought the urge to probe further. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“You should go after her,” Bronn glared at him as soon as she left.

“I won’t, because I don’t mean to pry into her personal matters,” Jaime said, despite wanting to talk to her in his heart of hearts.

“Call her atleast, ask her if she needs any help.”

“Yup,” Jaime returned to his code. “In some time.”

When he was finally done for the day, it was past 11 p.m. On the way home, he realised that he was supposed to call Brienne and it had completely slipped his mind. He had almost reached his building when he decided to talk to her.

“Hey,” he panted, out of breath due to the brisk walk.

“Yes, Jaime,” she sounded as if she had a cold.

“Sorry, I wanted to call you earlier, but I got busy and somehow it completely escaped my mind.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” she said, sounding anything but fine.

“You’re not fine. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Once again the precise matter-of-fact reply.

“You looked upset when you left, and you sound disturbed,” he continued, now wanting to know more. “Who was that call from?”

“I told you, it’s nothing, I--” she stopped abruptly.

“Brienne?”

“Sorry Jaime, I’m not really in the mood for a conversation,” she seemed to be on the verge of tears. “I’m tired and I want to retire early to bed. Goodnight.”

She disconnected before he could say anything more. His first instinct was to forget about this conversation, return home quietly and wind up his day. But as he entered the gate, he was beginning to get increasingly worried about her. The way she spoke, she was definitely not _fine._ Bronn was right, he should have inquired after her. _I don’t care what she thinks, better late than never._ He decided to go personally and find out, her reaction be damned.

Apprehensive about turning up at her place at such an odd hour, he rang the doorbell, pacing back and forth, waiting for her to open.

“Jaime, what are you--” Not giving her a chance to speak further, he barged in and shut the door behind him.

“Alright,” he folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not leaving unless you tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I said, I’m fine,” she looked away. But before she did, Jaime was quick to notice that her eyes were red and swollen.

“You’ve been crying,” he observed. “You aren’t the highly emotional type, and you don’t cry easily. So tell me--”

“I said, it’s nothing,” she cried out, her chin wobbling as she seemed to fight hard not to break down in front of him.

His heart melted at her vulnerability, and driving her to tears was the last thing he wanted. He took a step closer. “What is it, Brienne?” he asked her tenderly. “Why don’t you tell me? I’ll help, if I can.”

“You can’t help! No one can, except me,” her voice shook. “It’s dad. My uncle called, dad had to be taken to a cardiologist on an emergency today.”

“Is he okay?”

She shook her head, sniffing. “His ECG is not normal. He needs an angiography at the earliest and I’m not around to take care of him when he needs me the most,” she burst into tears.

Jaime closed the distance between them, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, though he was unsure if he should get any nearer for fear of invading her personal space. But the second he touched her, she threw her arms around his neck and broke down completely, sobbing into his chest. For an instant he stood still, stunned by her reaction. Once the momentary shock had passed, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. He let her vent out her feelings, gently patting her head. “Do you want to go back, Brienne, maybe take a few days off and stay with your father?” he suggested gently, wanting to do everything in his capacity to make her feel better.

“It’s no use,” she cried. “The test is tomorrow and depending on that they’ll decide if an angioplasty is required or not. All I can do, is wait and watch and keep my anxiety to myself.”

He held her for a long time, stroking her hair gently while his other arm was around her back. Neither of them said a word, the only sound being their steady breathing and the hum of the AC. He had to make an effort not to pay attention to the soft curves of her body as his hand slid down her back in a gently soothing manner, or the sweet scent of her shampoo as he smelled her hair. Left to himself, he would have stood there all night, holding her tight.

And then, she jerked away abruptly, attempting to release herself from his grasp. At once, he let go of her. As it is, their relationship was quite strained these days, he didn’t want to worsen things by going against her wishes or offending her. This was a clear hint that she wanted to draw a distinct line between them and he wanted to respect that.

“It’s quite late, Jaime, you should leave,” she wiped her face with her palm.

“Yeah,” he whispered, handing her a tissue as he opened the door. “Call me if you need any help.”

“Thank you.”

He took her leave and went home, his head full of the wench and the feel of her body against his. _I should stop thinking about her like that!_ Pulling out his keys, he opened the door when he found his cousin sitting there, waiting for him with a frown on her face.

“Cersei!” he exclaimed. “What’re you doing here?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally they hug, though it's purely situational ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they try to make peace with each other, their equation alternates between hot and cold.

“We were to meet tonight, remember?” Cersei got up, her frown deepening at the shocked face that greeted her.

“I’m so sorry,” Jaime had completely forgotten about their arrangement. “It slipped my mind. I should have been back earlier.”

“I saw you leave office long back,” she asked, moving closer. “Why did it take you so much time to reach home?”

“I had to step outside to get some stuff,” he lied, worried if she would buy it.

“To the next building?” she looked at him suspiciously.

“Yeah,” he thought quickly. “I needed a pain killer for my migraine, and there’s a medical store down there.”

“Hmm,” she finally smiled. “Thank god, I asked you. Otherwise I’d have spent sleepless nights thinking that you had sneaked out to meet that Tarth woman.”

Jaime felt his insides freeze. “Why would I meet her out of office?”

“I dunno,” she leaned into him, fumbling with his shirt buttons. “All those rumours about you two--”

“I’ve told you those are just stories, Cersei,” he asserted, praying she would believe him.

“Fine, let’s leave all that for now,” she said seductively. She stood on tiptoes and her lips brushed against his. “Why don’t we get down to what I came here for?” She began unbuttoning his shirt, sliding her hand down his chest, while kissing him passionately.

 _What the hell is the matter with me? By now I should have been completely turned on with my pants fully down and fucking her like crazy!_ Instead of looking forward to a wonderful night with his lover, Jaime found himself thinking about the wench. While he pushed himself to focus on Cersei’s warm, naked body under him, all he could picture was Brienne’s tearful face as she clung to him for comfort.

“What’s wrong?” Cersei drew away, displeased by his lukewarm response.

“Nothing,” he murmured, thinking of an excuse for his disinterest. A second later she was back to normal and began kissing his neck, while undoing the rest of his shirt. “Cersei,” he caught her wrist, taking a step backward. “Sorry, but I’m not really in the mood tonight.”

“Oh, you’ll soon be,” she purred. Her lips were now on his collarbone, slowly kissing down his chest. Her hand moved down to his crotch, groping him--

“Stop it,” Jaime wrenched her hand away. Seeing that she was hurt and disappointed, he softened. “I’m tired, I had a tough day. Tomorrow night, okay?” he kissed her wrist. “I’m looking forward to it, and I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Goodnight, Jaime,” Cersei left, her expression a mix of anger and disappointment.

Jaime retired to his room. Discarding his clothes, he stepped into the shower. Standing under the warm water, his mind flew to the few minutes he had spent in Brienne’s apartment. That was the first time he had been so close to her, and he had never imagined that her proximity would have such a huge impact on him. He could still feel the tingling sensation caused by her touch when her fingers had brushed against the nape of his neck. The tightening in his groin due to the pleasant swell of her breasts against him still haunted him. He found himself painfully aroused as he remembered the feel of her nipples pushing into his chest when she had hugged him tightly. _This is crap,_ he cursed himself and his reflexes, sensing his rapidly growing hardness. He turned down the temperature of the water, deciding to resort to cold water to relieve him of his unexpected predicament.

The mere thought of the wench had managed to do what Cersei’s touch and kisses couldn’t! Just a coincidence, he concluded. Maybe it was her vulnerable state, or probably the newness of her touch. Whatever it was, he would be past it tomorrow. All would be well, and they would be back to their usual cold behaviour with each other.

Perhaps, it was better that way.

+++++

“Hey, can I have a word?” Brienne called out from behind him, when he made a trip to the coffee machine to grab his morning dose. She looked haggard, the dark circles around her eyes indicating that she had not slept a wink last night.

“Sure,” he led her to one of the free tables. “Are you okay, Brienne? I think you should take today off, get some rest--”

“I’m fine, I just got news that they did dad’s tests yesterday itself and it seems he needs an angioplasty. But the doctors have decided to wait a week for his sugar levels to return to normal,” her voice trembled. “About last night…” she looked down at her hands, playing with her nails as she spoke. “I got a bit too emotional. I’m not normally like that, it’s just that you happened to catch me in a particularly low moment.”

“I understand,” Jaime nodded, relieved that she didn’t tell him off for barging into her place without invitation. The way she had abruptly dismissed him after turning to him for comfort lingered at the back of his mind. “And, I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that. I’m sorry--”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she agreed, but there was a faint smile on her lips. “Though, I’m glad you did.” Her smile grew wider and her eyes shone with gratitude. “Thank you, Jaime, for being there.”

“Anytime,” he whispered, the word straight from the bottom of his heart. He had known Brienne for more than a year, but had never bothered to ask about her family or her personal life. He suddenly felt the urge to get to know her better. Before he was about to inquire about her father, they were interrupted by a huge figure waving out to Brienne.

“Hey, Brienne,” Tormund approached their table, giving her a wide grin. “Join me for a cuppa?”

“Sure,” she returned his smile, much to Jaime’s irritation. “Why don’t you join us?” She pointed to the vacant chair next to her.

“I have a meeting in five minutes,” Jaime rose, picking up his mug, irritated with Brienne’s over friendliness. “Why don’t you both carry on?”

“Jaime, the meeting’s not until--”

“I’ll see you later, Brienne,” he left, giving her a curt nod.

With more than an hour to go for the meeting, Jaime returned to his desk and buried himself in his laptop, trying to cool down, forcing himself to ignore that Brienne was out there, socializing with Tormund.

“What’s wrong?” Bronn caught him unawares.

Jaime marvelled at his friend’s ability to correctly gauge his mood swings. He still decided to lie. “Who said anything’s wrong?”

“You look like you’ve swallowed a lemon,” Bronn pointed to his face. “Is it Renly again?”

Before Jaime could reply, Brienne was back, wearing a sour look on her face. “You didn’t have to take off so rudely. Why did you lie to him about the meeting?”

“I have no interest in spending time with Gingerbeard!” Jaime said coldly, his eyes fixed on the screen. “He’s been hitting on you since you arrived, so while it’s up to you to respond to his advances, I am under no obligation to talk to him without reason.”

“He wasn’t hitting on me,” she replied, her tone unnecessarily defensive. “And I’m not obliged to befriend him either. It’s polite to have coffee with your co-worker if he invites you.”

“Not when his sole intention is to get into your pants,” Jaime scowled. He noticed Bronn lock his screen and lean back in his chair to watch them with a look of amusement.

“He tried no such thing!” she exclaimed, flustered. “And even if he did, it’s none of your business.”

“I never said it is,” Jaime went back to work, hitting the keyboard with added force, picturing every key to be a part of Tormund’s face. He was surprised at the sudden, inexplicable anger that he felt at the sight of that man.

“And _Gingerbread_?” Brienne asked disapprovingly. “What kind of a nasty nickname is that?”

“It’s _Gingerbeard_ , not Gingerbread, and it suits him perfectly,” Jaime muttered, earning a snort from Bronn. “Though, _Gingerbread_ isn’t too bad either.”

“You find it funny too?” Brienne directed her anger at Bronn.

“Oh, I didn’t laugh for that,” he grinned, looking at both of them alternately.

“What, then?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, his expression serious again. “Let’s get back to work.”

The next few hours went off peacefully without any more arguments or interruptions. Rummaging through his file for a document, Jaime came across his passport when he remembered something. “My trip to Pentos is still pending,” he grumbled. “My one month is almost up.” There was a rule that any foreigner entering Essos on a work permit had to get their visa stamped at the consulate at Pentos. This had to be done within a month of arrival. “Which means, I have to travel this week,” he said, checking the date on his watch.

“Brienne has to do it too, why don’t you both go together?” Bronn suggested.

Brienne didn’t look too happy with the idea. “I still have time, I can go later. I don’t need his company.”

“I’ll be better off going alone as well,” Jaime retorted, throwing her an angry glance.

“The testing is going to intensify in the coming weeks, Brienne, you won’t have time later,” Bronn told her. “It’s better to finish Pentos during this week. Today is Tuesday. You can leave on Thursday morning, so that you can be back on Friday night. You can schedule your visa appointments for Friday morning.”

“Do I have a better option?” Brienne’s face fell at the eventuality of travelling with Jaime.

“Go with Tormund,” Jaime cut in scathingly.

“Not a bad idea,” she glared at him.

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option as he’s already done with it,” Bronn smirked. “So unless you want to subject yourselves to the boredom of travelling alone, you two kids have no choice but to grin and bear with each other for two days.”

They had both eventually decided to make peace and travel together. Jaime looked forward to, as well as dreaded the trip, for this would be the first time he would be truly alone with the wench. Despite his determination to avoid her, he found that he enjoyed spending time with her, regardless of their current friction.

On the way home that night, he remembered that he had to meet Cersei at her place. Oddly, he wasn’t too enthusiastic about the meeting, though he still decided to go ahead with it for her sake.

+++++

Work on Wednesday was largely peaceful, with most of the day being uneventful, though Jaime found himself getting increasingly irritated whenever he saw Tormund stalk Brienne.

 _Why the hell is the wench putting up with him?_ His mind refused to accept the most logical explanation for this. What if she had begun to develop a soft corner for him?

_None of my business._

“What is?” Bronn asked, curious.

“Excuse me?”

“You said, _‘none of my business’_ ,” Bronn repeated. Only then did Jaime realize that he had spoken the last line out aloud.

“Nothing,” he went back to his screen, staring at the same piece of code that he had been looking at for the past two hours.

“You know,” Bronn tugged at his sleeve. “Glaring at it will not make it debug itself.”

Jaime got up, unable to concentrate anymore. “I’m tired, I’m leaving for the day.” He shut down his laptop and shoved it into the bag. “Call me if there’s anything urgent.”

“It’s just 6 p.m,” Bronn looked at his watch and then at Jaime. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“Can’t I leave early for a change? Does something have to be wrong?” He shouted at Bronn, misdirecting his anger and frustration.

“Smoke?”

Jaime hesitated for a moment. “Have you quit smoking altogether?” Bronn’s eyes widened in shock.

“No, I need one.” Jaime picked up his bag and left with Bronn.

“First Renly, and now Tormund,” Bronn broke the silence, exhaling a cloud of nicotine. “Every man who shows even the faintest bit of interest in Brienne ends up touching your nerve.”

“Renly wasn’t interested in her,” Jaime corrected him, evading the point he was trying to make.

“Okay, the other way round as well, then,” Bronn said. “Why does it bother you?”

“It bothers me because I’m worried about her,” Jaime frowned. “After Renly, I don’t think she deserves another heartbreak if this Tormund ditches her.” His fingers shook so much that he had to make an effort to steady his hand.

“Is that all, Lannister? I don’t need an answer to that, I just want you to think it over carefully.”

+++++

“I want the window,” Brienne declared brusquely, the moment they got to their seats on the aircraft. They were allotted the two seater to the right of the plane.

“Suit yourself.” Jaime settled down on the aisle seat next to her. “Doesn’t matter to me where I sit. I’m planning to sleep through the journey.” It was 6 a.m, and Jaime being a night owl was not used to being up so early. Brienne, however, looked bright and fresh.

Soon after they had taken off, he shut his eyes and forced himself to sleep, the presence of the wench by his side making things difficult for him. Everytime his fingers brushed against hers on the hand rest, or when her arm touched his, his pulse went up a notch. When he finally managed to drift off to sleep, Brienne called out loudly, shaking him out of his reverie.

“I want to go out,” she got up, impatiently waiting for him to make way for her.

Half asleep and irritated at being woken up, Jaime didn’t want to budge. “There’s enough room for you to get past me. I don’t have to leave my seat.” He shifted his legs to give her space to move out.

Swearing at his non-cooperation, she pushed past him roughly, in the process giving him a fantastic view of her shapely ass, her curves enhanced by the tight jeans that she was wearing. _Why the fuck is this affecting me so much?_ He groaned, quickly turning left and focusing his attention on a beautiful air hostess who happened to pass by.

“A pretty woman walks by, and all you men can do is lust after her as if she's a piece of meat,” she muttered, scowling at him before storming off.

_I’m not staring at her, wench. She’s just a distraction from the torture I’m going through._

Brienne was back soon, and was about to get past him and back to her seat, when the plane hit a patch of turbulence and jerked violently. Losing her balance, she landed on his lap, taking him by surprise. Instinctively, she threw her arms around his neck, trying to avoid banging her head on the seat in front.

Jaime protectively wrapped his arms around her waist and glanced up at her, noting the faint tinge of pink on her cheeks. Blinking vigorously, she was about to get off him, when the craft lurched again, pushing her further into his arms. And this time, he was treated to the glorious sight of her cleavage, the curve of her breasts and the outline of her lacy bra clearly visible through the top of her shirt.

 _Today is my bad day!_ He made an effort to calm down, choosing to ignore that he was now painfully horny, her breasts squeezing against his chest sending shock waves through him.

“Hey,” the passenger behind him nudged him sharply, drawing his attention away from Brienne. “Why don’t you and your girlfriend try to be a bit more discreet?” he looked irritated. “I don’t want my kid to get a free show of whatever you’re doing.”

That snapped Brienne back to her senses as well. She looked furious, but before she could yell at the stranger, Jaime decided to handle it tactfully. “I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “We’ve been away from each other for too long… and I just couldn’t keep my hands off her.” Encouraged by the look of sympathy their co-passenger gave him, he went on. “Don’t worry, we’ll take it to our hotel room once we land. I can manage until then,” he said, winking. The man smiled and went back to attending to his little boy.

It was now time to put an end to this problem. “Would you mind getting off my lap?” he said hoarsely, eager to get rid of her. The growing bulge in his jeans was beginning to alarm him, and if she didn’t get up soon--

“If you don't mind taking your hands off me,” she blushed, despite sounding angry. “I have no interest in sitting on your lap, Mr. Lannister.”

He let go of her, and when she was safely back to her seat, she turned to him, glaring. “Why didn’t you correct that man?”

“Does it really matter?” Jaime was amazed that such a small thing could affect her so much.

“It does,” she hissed. “I’m NOT your girlfriend, and we were NOT doing anything like that. I don’t want people to think--”

“Why do you care what people think? You were angry, and you would’ve yelled at him had I not taken matters in my hands. I wanted to settle things amicably.”

Brienne seemed to be convinced by that explanation and said nothing after that. Jaime however, was hurt that she found the prospect of being his girlfriend so repulsive. _I don’t care what she thinks._ With that thought pacifying him, he found himself dozing off again once the tension in his body had ebbed.

Minutes later, when Jaime woke up, the aircraft was buzzing with activity with the cabin crew issuing landing instructions. They were nearing their destination. Wiping the sleep off his eyes, he became aware of the weight on his arm. Brienne had fallen asleep on his shoulder, her arm linked in his. He gazed at her peaceful face, and he would’ve allowed her to continue sleeping, when the instruction for seat belts was switched on.

“Wake up,” he whispered in her ear. “Time to land.”

“You should have woken me earlier,” she pulled away immediately, embarrassed with the contact.

+++++

Once they had checked into their respective rooms, Jaime suggested that they spend the day sightseeing.

“I don’t think I want to--” Brienne objected.

“I know, I’m not the company you relish, but I’m not that bad either,” he said, hoping she’d agree. “The appointment is tomorrow morning, and I have been dreading the idea of spending the whole of today cooped up in this hotel.”

She thought for a second. “Fine,” she agreed reluctantly and went to her room to get ready.

They spent the day going around the city, covering only the most significant tourist locations in the limited time they had. They visited a museum, a science centre and finally a beach in the evening. Hardly engaging in any conversation, they both focussed on sightseeing, with Jaime constantly wary and keen to avert any more incidents like the aircraft embarrassment.

“Listen, Brienne,” he began, as they sat by the waves, watching the sunset. “If you’re still angry about that VC thing, I’m sorry again, I didn’t mean it--”

“I’m sorry too,” she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I overreacted. I shouldn’t have dragged it this far.”

“Truce then, wen… Brienne?” he asked, glad that the ice was finally broken.

She nodded, going back to gazing at the sun which had now set, with twilight now beginning to surround them. “By the way, you are allowed to call me wench,” her smile widened as she got to her feet. “We should leave now if we have to get back to the hotel in time for dinner.”

The walked to the exit. “Would I be that bad a boyfriend, wench?” Jaime asked her out of the blue, the thought having disturbed his peace of mind for the whole day.

“I never said that,” she quickened her pace. “I just don’t want to be known as your girlfriend when I am not. It’s awkward.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “You’re with Cersei, you’re not my type of guy--”

“Tormund’s your type of guy then?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

She halted, staring at him in disbelief. “What has Tormund got to do with all this?”

“Don’t think I’m blind to whatever’s been going on between you two,” he retorted, anger slowly rising in his chest.

“Even if something’s going on, it’s none of your bloody business,” she yelled, attracting the curious stares of a couple of passers-by.

“You’re right, he _is_ your type,” Jaime’s rage was beyond control now. “He’s as boring as you are.”

“Why did you insist on spending the day with me if I’m that boring?”

“I wouldn’t have, if had better company,” he shouted. “And I also know that you’d rather be with Tormund. You both make a lovely pair.”

“What you think about us doesn’t really matter to me, Jaime,” Brienne was now livid, her face flushed with rage.

“So you’re an _us_ now,” he narrowed his eyes, his blood boiling as his mind subconsciously conjured up images of her having sex with Tormund.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she hurried ahead, and Jaime found it difficult to match pace.

“Fine,” he snapped. “I’m least interested in your love life, anyway.”

They walked the rest of their way in uncomfortable silence. It was now completely dark and they were on the way to the nearest taxi stand, when it began pouring heavily. Having no umbrellas or jackets, they were drenched within seconds. Jaime stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him. Brienne, completely wet in a white transparent top was the worst thing that could happen to him today. Even in the dim streetlights, he could clearly make out the outline of her bra as the thin top clung to her skin. Her breasts were just the right size, he noted, and their curves accentuated by the wet shirt sticking to her bra only added to his agitation. He could distinctly make out her nipples as they--

“Aren’t you coming?” she called out curtly.

“Um… y--yes,” he stammered, mentally cursing himself for ogling her so blatantly. His brain came to a standstill, and all his blood rushed south to one particular spot in his body. “I was just thinking if we could take cover somewhere…” Unfortunately, they couldn’t find shelter anywhere and they had to trudge along in the pouring rain with Jaime trying to pretend that the sight of the woman next to him didn’t affect him.

_Why the fuck do women have to wear such sexy bras under transparent white tops? And why does it have to rain when they wear such atrocities?_

After an excruciating hour which included a ride in a cab, where again, he had to stop himself staring at her, they finally made it back to the hotel. Jaime was glad to have his sanity intact after everything he had been subjected to during the day. Deciding to meet after an hour at the restaurant for dinner, they retired to their respective rooms. He stripped and rushed straight to the bathroom. Desperately in need of a cold shower, he used his hand to relieve himself of the agony that had been building up in his groin, waiting to explode.

 

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

Brienne opened her eyes with a start. Sweating in the cool breeze of the AC, she blushed furiously, thinking about the dream she just had. Jaime was making love to her, and just as she was nearing her orgasm, the shrill beep of the alarm woke her up. Breathing heavily, she dragged herself to the bathroom. Adding to her frustration was the discovery that the dream had her completely aroused and wet. Not usually one to be a victim of such wet dreams, she brushed it away as the effect of the events of the last few days.

She had been plagued by these dreams since the night Jaime had gatecrashed into her apartment. There had been something comforting in his presence, the feel of his body against hers soothed and calmed her more than anything else. And then there was yesterday, when she fell into his arms in the plane. All she could think of, was the firm hardness of his chest against her soft breasts. Ever since she had felt his boner, which she had dismissed as nothing but a spontaneous male reaction to the proximity of a female body, she had been subconsciously picturing him naked, wondering how big he was and how he would feel inside her.

_It’s no surprise, I’ve been getting such disturbing dreams!_

She got dressed for the appointment, pushing all the images of Jaime in various stages of nudity to the back of her mind. She was supposed to meet him for breakfast at 8 a.m. It was now 8:15, and he had not called yet. Had he overslept?

She knocked on his door, nervously twiddling her thumbs. After a long time, the door opened to a shirtless and semi-wet Jaime clad in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Brienne gulped, trying not to openly gape at his chest. But what a sight it was! She averted her eyes, while wanting to steal furtive glances at the same time. She almost gasped out aloud as she took in his firm abs, the impossibly flat stomach and well toned biceps, his broad shoulders and--she held her breath for a second--his near-perfect chest hair.

_God, I didn’t know chest hair turned me on so much until now!_

Realizing what she’d been doing, she turned away, her face growing hot. “I’ll finish my checkout and wait at the reception. Join me whenever you’re ready, we can go for breakfast together.”

She fled from there without giving him a second look. Not even bothering to wait for the elevator, she dashed down the stairs in a desperate bid to calm her racing heart. She was doomed, for she would for days together find it impossible to shake away the sight she had just witnessed. The water droplets clinging to his chest, waiting to be licked away... His glistening skin, fresh from the bath, waiting to be kissed… And his hair…

“Can I help you?” Busy daydreaming, Brienne had forgotten that she had kept the receptionist waiting for quite a while. Handing her card, she requested to be checked out, and the handsome man behind the counter began processing her payment.

“Are you married?” the counter guy asked when she handed him her credit card.

“No,” she said shortly, annoyed with his unnecessary curiosity.

“There’s no ring,” he pointed at her hand. “I guessed so.”

Brienne ignored him, but the guy went on. “What’s a woman like you doing here all alone? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Resisting the urge to punch him in the face, she was about to settle for a scathing remark, when an achingly familiar voice spoke in her ear. “She’s with me, dude.” Jaime threw an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He smelled of musk and citrus and male… everything a man should smell like after a bath. “I’m the boyfriend you were asking for,” he smirked, handing the man his key-card. “Oh, and just in case you were wondering why the separate rooms, it’s only because we don’t mix business with pleasure,” he winked at Brienne, giving her waist a light squeeze. She turned away, hiding her burning face from the guy who had thankfully stopped staring at her.

The receptionist finished the billing wordlessly without bothering her anymore. “Why don’t you sit there, honey, while I book us a cab?” Pointing to the couch, Jaime flashed her a seductive smile which made her go weak in the knees.

Once the nosy receptionist was out of their sight, Jaime was back to his usual self. By the time they finished their breakfast, their cab had arrived and they were on their way to the consulate.

Brienne couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“Why did you flirt with me in front of that man?” she asked, her face now unbearably hot.

“I was saving you from that pest,” he replied. “In case you failed to notice, he was the one flirting.”

“You were flirting as well,” she raised her voice, agitated. “And quiet badly, that too.”

“Badly?” he looked shocked. “Oh, you don’t know how good I am at flirting,” he smiled mischievously.

“I don’t want to know,” she said curtly. “It wouldn’t work on me, anyway.”

Jaime caught her hand, taking her by surprise. “You look adorable when you’re angry and flustered, wench,” he whispered, leaning into her. “As you do, when you blush.”

“What the he--” she began, but he pulled her closer and kissed her knuckles, leaving her tongue-tied.

“Has anyone told you that you have beautiful eyes?” he gazed at her longingly, making her heart jump to her throat. “I’ve missed you so much, Brienne. Every second of my waking time, I’ve been thinking about you. Every night in my dreams, it’s your face I’ve been seeing.”

 _What the hell is he going on about?_ She was about to draw away, but her body refused to obey her brain.

“The day I left you behind in King’s Landing was the worst moment in my life,” he sighed. “I still can’t forget the look in your eyes when you said goodbye to me. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how much it pleases me to see you in Braavos. I have yearned to have you by my side, to hold your hand like this--”

“Jaime,” she breathed, feeling dizzy, desperate to put an end to this before he could go any further. To her dismay, she found no words.

A few seconds later, he let go of her hand and grinned at her. “See, that’s called flirting, wench, and it worked with you quite perfectly. It always works.”

She blinked rapidly, turning her face to the window. “Please don’t do that again, Jaime,” she said quietly.

He became serious again. “I was just trying to prove you wrong. But I won’t repeat it if it bothers you so much.”

+++++

The next day, they were back to work and to their normal routine again. As soon as they had returned to Braavos, Jaime had eyes only for Cersei, and for some reason it bothered Brienne even more now. Much to her disappointment, instead of spending his coffee break with them, he chose to go out with his cousin.

“Trip was okay?” Bronn gave her a concerned look.

“Yeah,” she tried to smile, concealing her distress.

“He’s out with Cersei and it’s just killing you, isn’t it?” He was bang on target with his analysis.

“It’s not,” she denied, ignoring the growing ache in her chest.

“Then why are you so sad?”

Brienne was spared the burden of replying when Jaime was back from his extended break. Fortunately, though there was enough work piled up for the two of them after their two-day absence, it was Saturday and they could work at their leisure. By the time Brienne had cleared her backlog of bug fixing, she checked the time. It was 2:00 a.m. Glancing around, she noted that only Bronn, Jaime and Tormund were around, everyone else had left for the day.

“I don’t think you should go alone this late,” Bronn interrupted, as she was about to step out. “If you can wait for an hour, I’ll walk you home.”

Brienne looked at her watch again. “That would be too late, Bronn. Thanks for offering, but I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re leaving now, why don’t you drop her home?” Bronn asked, turning to Jaime.

“I’ll need a couple of hours atleast,” Jaime answered, without looking up from his laptop.

“I’m leaving,” Tormund said eagerly. “You can join me, Brienne.”

Brienne was in a fix. Refusing him outright would definitely hurt him, which was the last thing she wanted, but tolerating his company for the entire walk home was something she wasn’t looking forward to either. Realizing that she didn’t have a choice, she decided to accept his offer. “Okay,” she agreed.

Jaime’s eyes blazed through hers in the fleeting glance he gave her as she left. There was anger and... something else in his eyes, something that she couldn’t define, something which sent a shiver down her spine.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the mutual attraction between Jaime and Brienne grows, Cersei decides to make her presence felt.

Jaime couldn’t resist himself when Brienne got to her desk. “How did it go?” he sprang the question on her abruptly. A week had gone by, but he was unable forget that night when Brienne walked out of the office arm-in-arm with Tormund in the dead of the night. Well, not literally arm-in-arm, but it did amount to that for all practical purposes.

“What are you talking about?” She stopped unpacking her laptop and turned to him, surprised.

 _As if she doesn’t know!_ “Your _date_ with Tormund,” he replied, sounding more curt than he had meant to. Looking at Brienne’s face which was a mix of shock and irritation, he went on. “That night when you both left together,” he clarified icily. “Was it just that night? Or have you had the privilege of his company again?”

“You know very well that he only dropped me home,” she hit back, her tone equally caustic. “It was 1 a.m. He was the only one who felt the need to escort a lady at that odd hour.” She threw him a dirty look. “Unlike some people who chose to avoid me.”

“Did he?” he looked at her suspiciously, ignoring the taunt which was undoubtedly directed at him. “The way he looks at you seems to suggest so many things. None of them are as gentlemanly or indicative of the so-call chivalry you think it is.”

“How do you know?”

Jaime couldn’t believe her response. _Is she that fucking innocent?_ “I’m a man, wench,” he ended up yelling, unsuccessful in his attempt to keep his voice down. “At times, we think with our--” he stopped himself from using the word _cocks._ He preferred to maintain a certain level of decency in his language when he was around women, more so in a professional environment, around a female colleague. “When it comes to the woman we desire, we rarely think with our brains,” he tried to convey his point in a polished sort of way. “So I know exactly what’s going through his mind every time he leers at you.”

She went red as she digested his words. “He’s not that type, and he doesn’t _leer_ at me,” she said weakly, as if unsure of herself.

Jaime burst out laughing at her ignorance. “Trust me, Brienne, we’re _all_ that type when we’re around the woman we have the hots for.” He decided to shut up when, to his dismay, the sudden surge of heat in his groin at the sight of Brienne all flustered and blushing only proved his theory right.

He turned his attention to Bronn who was sniggering behind him. “Do you find that funny?” Relieved at the distraction, he was glad to direct his irritation at his friend who tried to unsuccessfully convert his laughter into a cough.

“Not funny, no,” he snorted. “Keep going, you two.”

Brienne blushed deeper. Was it because of anger at his comment or the anticipation of Tormund fucking her? He didn’t know, though, he desperately hoped it was the first. “Can we stop this unproductive discussion please and get to work?”

Jaime shrugged in response. “Fine.” He turned away, pretending it didn’t matter to him. “Suit yourself.” He glared at the screen fuming to himself, unable to focus on the document he had begun to write, his mind polluted with images of the huge redhead undressing the wench, fondling her, pounding into her--

“Smoke?” He looked up from the screen with a start at Bronn who had thankfully put an end to these disturbing visions.

“Yeah.” He got up, welcoming the break.

Brienne glanced up at him when he rummaged into the drawer for his pack and lighter. “Must you really smoke this often?” The disapproval in her eyes was evident.

Jaime stopped for a second, but decided to carry on, nevertheless. _Who the hell is she to advise me?_

“Come on, Bronn,” he murmured, ignoring her. Without sparing her another look, he left with his friend. While Bronn lit his cigarette, he paced up and down, the appalling visions once again threatening to enter his head.

“You do take her word seriously, don’t you?” Bronn commented, when Jaime made no attempt to smoke.

“I don’t feel like it,” he admitted, still upset with Ginger getting too close to Brienne. “I’m just accompanying you.”

Bronn exhaled a cloud of smoke. “However much you deny, what she thinks does matter to you,” he concluded, looking Jaime squarely in the eye. “And you’re burning inside at the possibility of her having a future with Tormund. The look of loathing you gave him that night--”

“I don’t care who she sleeps with,” Jaime retorted. “Her personal life is none of my business. We don’t get to choose who we love… and unfortunately for her, it seems to be Tormund.”

Bronn looked mildly amused. “I don’t think she’s fookin’ him,” he consoled him. “Agreed, he’s been hitting on her at every available chance, but I doubt she’s interested. So you don’t have to worry.”

“I love Cersei,” he asserted, wanting to pacify himself more than convince Bronn. “Why would I bother about a woman I’ve known for just over a year?”

“Fair enough,” Bronn agreed. “Cigarette, then?” He handed him the pack. “Go on,” he coaxed, when Jaime was reluctant to take it. “Why do you have to bother about the opinion of a woman you’ve barely known for just over a year?”

Jaime shot him a nasty look. “No thanks,” he snarled, then added as an afterthought. “I don’t care what others think about me. I’m almost forty, and it’s time I paid attention to my health. You should too.” He left, not daring to face Bronn’s reaction.

+++++

“You’re distracted.” Cersei looked up from her plate.

“Um...no,” he denied halfheartedly, his thoughts 100% with the wench. Lunch breaks were the only times he could meet his cousin, for they had to be discreet in office. Romance with the client was not something that was encouraged, so he had to be careful for his sake as well as hers.

“Thinking about that ugly teammate of yours?” She scowled, trying to strike conversation again. “Missing her? Do I not interest you anymore?”

“Don't insult her!” he snapped. When the impulse in him died down, he softened. “Cersei, you know I love you.” He reached across the table to touch her hand, but she pulled away angrily. It was Cersei in front of him, but his head was full of unavoidable visions of Brienne, her plain face lit up by the pretty blush that blossomed on it when he had flirted with her in the cab.

_Pretty? What’s wrong with me? Since when did I start associating the word pretty with Brienne Tarth?_

“You’re here, but your mind isn’t. I bet, you’re thinking about her even now,” Cersei said spitefully. At once the images of the wench faded and Jaime was back to reality. “I’ve been watching you at work. You can’t keep your eyes off her, you can’t keep away from her, you’re seriously attracted to her--” she paused for breath, fuming.

“That’s absolutely untrue. You know, you’re the only one, darling.” He touched her hand gently. Why did everyone think he had something going on with Brienne? First Bronn, then Renly and now Cersei. “She’s just a teammate, someone who’s going to be around for just a few more months.”

“Take the trouble to keep away from her then,” she demanded. They ate the rest of their meal in silence, and when they had finished, she walked away, leaving him pondering to himself.

He really had to stay away from Brienne, for people seemed to misinterpret their friendship quite often now. _She’s just a friend,_ he kept reassuring himself. At times, rumours were bound to crop up between friends and co-workers. There was hardly much he could do about it except maintain a certain degree of professionalism when it came to any interaction with her.

Quickly settling the payment, he rushed after Cersei. They took a cab back to the office, riding in silence, each lost in their thoughts. Jaime had brought her to this restaurant four miles from Iron Bank just to avoid being seen with her in the vicinity of their office. He didn’t mind it, they deserved this privilege. Usually their lunches ended with a kiss which progressed to a quick bang in a deserted corridor, but today was a exception with neither of them wanting to speak to the other. As soon as they entered the office premises, they went their separate ways.

 _I’ll call her later,_ he decided, _and I’ll keep away from the wench if my friendship with her makes Cersei unhappy._

When he got back to his desk, he found Ygritte deep in conversation with Brienne. She seemed to be trying to convince the wench of something, but Brienne sounded least interested in whatever it was.

“C’mon, Brienne, tomorrow’s one Saturday you can sacrifice work for some fun,” the girl tried to convince her. “You haven’t been to any of our team outings yet.”

“I’m sorry, Ygritte,” Brienne said regretfully. “There’s just so much work, too many issues to be fixed.”

“What are they talking about?” Jaime whispered to Bronn, curiosity getting the better of him as the two women went back and forth on their discussion.

“Aren’t you aware?” Bronn raised his brows. “It’s a trip to a resort nearby.”

Noticing that Jaime had arrived, Ygritte turned to him. “I was about to ask you too. You don’t refuse as well please!” She was literally pleading, looking alternately between him and Brienne.

Jaime gave her an apologetic look.

“That’s a no from you as well.” She looked disappointed and turned to Brienne hopefully. “What about you? Just this once… please?”

“Fine,” Brienne agreed reluctantly. “Where do we meet, and at what time?”

“That’s fantastic!” Ygritte squeezed her hand happily. “I’ll email the details by end of day,” she said before taking off.

“Is Tormund going?” Jaime asked her before he could stop himself.

“Yeah, why?”

Jaime tried to keep his expression neutral. “Just asked, no reason.” He shrugged. Brienne gave him a sharp look while Ygritte left after a quick bye.

“Now you regret dropping out, don’t you?” Bronn said in such a low voice that he was audible only to Jaime. “Worried that Gingerbeard might flirt with her?” His lips curved in a sly smile. “Imagine Tormund’s reaction on seeing her in a swimsuit--”

“ _Swimsuit_ ?” Jaime repeated, his mind immediately conjuring sexy images of the wench in a bikini. _Oh God, no!_ He was in office, he had to control himself. Worse, still, was the vision of Tormund with his jaw open lusting after Brienne!

“Ofcourse, what’s a trip to a resort without a swim, Lannister?” Bronn said in a tone that suggested that Jaime had overlooked the obvious. He leaned closer, looking at Jaime carefully. “So do you want to opt in now?” he teased. “Can you really bear the thought of Tormund eye-fookin--”

“She doesn’t seem to be interested in him,” Jaime cut him off.

“She could be.” Bronn scratched his beard thoughtfully. “Women rarely speak of these things to others.”

“You were the one who convinced me she isn’t!”

“I could be wrong,” Bronn said. “At times, I am.”

 _What if Bronn’s right about being wrong?_ The fear that gripped his heart at this possibility ebbed gradually as he forced himself to focus on his work. Minutes later, the familiar anxiety was back again, and the lines of code on his console were nothing but a blur.

After a lot of vacillation, Jaime had made his decision. When Brienne was out for a break, he picked up his desk phone and dialled Ygritte’s extension. “Count me in,” he said, as soon as she answered. When he hung up, he found Bronn grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Bronn replied, his expression as normal as could be. “Since morning, you’ve refused to touch a cigarette because she told you off on it, you changed your mind on the trip because she’s coming, and your romantic rival--”

“Romantic rival?” he repeated in disbelief. “Where does romance come into the picture here? Brienne’s just a good friend, and I want to protect her from that lecherous predator.”

“He’s no predator,” Bronn quipped. “For your information, he’s been absolutely decent with her. They could make a nice couple, you know.”

Jaime’s jaw tightened at that suggestion. “I don’t like the way he looks at her.”

“You don’t have to, that’s between the two of them.” Bronn looked at him carefully. “Unless you’re attracted to her--”

“What nonsense!” he got up, enraged. “She’s just a friend.”

“A very good friend, indeed!” Bronn went back to the code that was awaiting his attention for a long time.

+++++

“You came?” Brienne seemed surprised to see him. It was Saturday morning and they had arrived at the resort in seperate cars.

“Course, he did,” Bronn answered on his behalf. “He had reasons--” he stopped, when Jaime gave him a warning look.

“What reasons?” Brienne was now curious.

Jaime was busy racking his brain to find something else to divert her when Tormund approached them. “Hey, Brienne!” He had eyes only for the wench. “Why don’t we take a stroll around the property? Would help work up the appetite for breakfast. We have some time to kill before the pool opens.”

“Er… I don’t know if…” She began, but Tormund didn’t wait for her response. “Come on.” Grabbing her arm, he strode off with her, leaving Jaime gaping in shock after her.

“If only you had asked her a second earlier,” Bronn chimed in, adding fuel to the fire that was already raging inside him.

“Ignore them.” Jaime settled himself on one of the benches nearby.

“I’m not the one who needs to do that.” Bronn said, his eyes following the duo as they made rounds of the garden. “Have you come here to sit in a corner and sulk all day? Be a man, go there and claim your woman.”

“Stop it, Bronn.” Fortunately, Cersei wasn’t around to hear all this. He could imagine the consequences if she were there. For her sake, he had to stay away from Brienne. And if Brienne chose to be happy with Ginger, then so be it. It was none of his concern. He had his girlfriend, the love of his life. They sat there in gloomy silence for about an hour after which there was an announcement that the pool was open to the guests.

Jaime changed into his swimming trunks and reached the pool accompanied by Bronn, when he stopped abruptly, speechless at the sight of the wench in a sexy turquoise bikini. His jaw dropped, and he had to force himself to breathe as he took in her outfit which hardly left anything to imagination.

“Close your mouth, Lannister.” Bronn grinned. “Stop gaping at her so blatantly. You’re no less than Ginger, I’d say.”

“ _You_ keep your eyes off her.” A wave of jealousy struck Jaime at the thought of every hot blooded male in the vicinity ogling Brienne.

“Don’t worry.” Bronn laughed. “I’m not interested. My eyes are on the pretty redhead in that corner there.” He pointed to a girl at a distance, but Jaime had eyes for no one but Brienne. Gods, her never ending legs! Her pale, freckled skin, the flat stomach followed by the shapely hips, the fantastic ass that he was already familiar with. And her breasts… he groaned as his dick responded appropriately to the sight that greeted it. This was the closest to naked he would ever see of her, and despite cursing himself for his dirty thoughts and his roving eye, he found himself mentally thanking Ygritte for organizing this event. Growing alarmingly aware of his predicament, Jaime forced himself to think of something else that might distract him, for bathing trunks were not the right outfit to conceal the pressure that was building up inside him.

“Are you going to keep standing there?” Bronn called out to him when he approached the edge of the pool. “Come on in, have some fun.”

Jaime consciously kept away from Brienne and moved to the opposite edge of the pool. Jumping in, he savoured the feel of the cool water on his skin, a welcome relief from the hot and humid Braavosi weather. Lost in himself and his thoughts, he was taken aback when someone collided with him, head on. In a desperate attempt to balance himself, he flung his arms tightly around the person’s waist.

Before he saw her face, he knew who it was!

“I’m sorry, Jaime, Tormund playfully pushed me, I lost my balance and fell off the edge...” Brienne spoke rapidly, averting her gaze from him. Jaime was barely listening to her as she squirmed pleasurably in his grasp. He noticed that she was red all over, her pale, wet skin delightfully glowing at his touch. His brain was screaming at him to release her, but instead, he slid his fingers along her smooth back, which was all bare, except for the string of her top. He felt the warmth on her skin everywhere he touched her despite the cool water it was exposed to. Her palm was on his chest, and her other arm around his neck as she balanced herself against his body. He felt his cock twitch again when her fingers scraped the hair on his chest. The more she moved, the more agony it caused him. But he couldn’t resist moving his hands down to her hips, feeling the curves--

“Let me go, Jaime,” she pleaded, her blush deepening. She still refused to meet his eyes. She could’ve easily freed herself by now. Why didn’t she do so?

They were rudely interrupted by a familiar voice. “Brienne, I’ve been--” Out of the corner of his eye, Jaime spotted Ginger at the edge of pool. His wide grin first morphed into a scowl followed by a look of pure jealousy when he saw her with Jaime. Far from being annoyed, Jaime was filled with a strange sense of smug satisfaction at Tormund’s reaction on finding Brienne in his arms. Overcome by a sudden surge of impulse coupled with the awareness that Tormund was watching, he pulled Brienne closer, pressing her tighter against his body. Perhaps, Ginger would leave her alone if he thought she was with Jaime. He held her for a while, resisting the urge to fuck her hard against the edge of the pool.

“Jaime,” her voice grew huskier as his fingers dug into her back. She was nothing like Cersei. While Cersei was pretty and dainty, the wench, despite being broader and bigger appeared to be more physically compatible with him. Their bodies just seemed to… fit together.

_What will she be like in bed?_

“Brienne!” Tormund waved, frantically trying to attract their attention.

 _Why the hell am I making a fool of myself in public?_ He was with Cersei and Brienne was most likely Ginger’s girlfriend by now. “Sorry,” he murmured, releasing her hastily, though apology was the last thing on his mind right now.

Brienne swam to the edge of the pool, and as she climbed out, she tossed him a fleeting glance before she was out of the water and away from his line of vision.

“She’s gone.” Bronn tapped him on the shoulder making him jump. “Stop staring after her.”

“I’m not staring.” Jaime was thankfully back to normal. They got out of the pool in silence and Jaime quickly changed into his regular clothes before anything else could go wrong.

“I know what’s going through your mind right now,” Bronn said analytically. “Your eyes seek Brienne, wondering what she and Ginger are up to. Are they kissing? Are they fookin’--”

“I don’t care,” Jaime shouted, walking out of the changing room, his fists clenched in rage, thinking exactly what Bronn had accused him of.

 

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

Brienne walked to work as if in a trance, her mind repeatedly replaying the dream she had that morning when she woke up panting once again, hot and bothered, her groin on fire. This was becoming a daily affair, and her dreams were now getting bolder, with Jaime getting increasingly innovative with her body as the days passed. Just an effect of the swimming pool fiasco, she concluded, pushing the thought out of her head as she swiped through the entrance. To her disappointment and surprise, she ran into Cersei.

“It would be of great help if you kept your eyes open when walking!” Cersei exclaimed in disgust. When she saw who it was, she gave Brienne an appraising look, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. “So it’s you who’s been keeping my boyfriend away from me all these days.”

Brienne noticed that the pretty blond had an uncanny resemblance to Jaime, the only remarkable difference being their eyes. Though they were the exact same colour, Jaime’s eyes had a certain warmth to them, while his cousin’s were cold and indifferent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brienne decided to play safe, albeit being painfully aware of what she was talking about.

“You’ve been trying to snatch my boyfriend!” She was livid, almost as if she would have swallowed Brienne alive.

“I have no interest in Jaime,” Brienne felt anger and agitation rising in her chest. “He’s just a co-worker and that’s what he’ll be.”

Cersei fixed her with a cold, calculated look. “Did you sleep with him?” Brienne was taken aback by the candidness of the question. As if that was a possibility! Jaime would never even look at her twice, having sex with her was beyond any level of imagination though her repeated dreams suggested just the opposite.

“I wouldn’t even dream of such a thing,” she lied vehemently, her face beginning to burn.

“I’m glad then.” Cersei calmed down. “Not that Jaime would ever look at you twice. What decent man would?” She waited, enjoying the effect of her venomous words. “Wasn’t it you who was after Renly Baratheon? It’s a shame he preferred men rather than unladylike women like you.”

Brienne blushed with indignation. Deciding that she had listened to enough of this woman’s shit, she wanted to put an end to it. “If you don’t mind, I have more important things to attend to.” Not bothering wait for Cersei’s reaction, she hurried to the elevator, wanting nothing more than to put this awful conversation behind her and start avoiding Jaime like plague.

+++++

She successfully kept away from Jaime for the rest of the day, absorbing herself in work. Even her breaks were fewer, she didn’t want to accidentally run into him at the coffee machine or at the elevator. Worse still, she dreaded bumping into Tormund, the prospect of dealing with his unsolicited attention getting on her nerves.

“Hey, Brienne,” Tormund peeped in. Brienne groaned, _think_ _of the devil..._  “If you’re leaving, you can join me, I can walk you home.” Brienne had been so busy that she had completely lost track of time. Shocked to find that it was well past 1 a.m, she was suddenly tired and tempted to leave.

“I can’t get up until another half an hour or so, a couple of bugs to fix,” she said, hoping this would be good enough a refusal.

Tormund looked disappointed. “Well, bye then.” When he had left, Brienne, Jaime and Bronn were the only ones on the floor.

About forty five minutes later, when she was done, she packed up her stuff, yawning as fatigue finally took over. “I’m leaving,” she announced, picking up her bag.

“Hang on for five minutes,” Jaime stopped her. “I’m just winding up. I’ll drop you home.”

The prospect of walking home alone with Jaime in the solitude of the night filled Brienne with a strange kind of fear. “What about you, Bronn?” she turned to him, hoping he would join them.

“You guys carry on,” he waved them away. “I still have an hour or so left.”

“Come on, then.” Jaime had finished and was waiting for her.

Just as she was about to follow him, Cersei’s words came back ringing. Not wanting to be the potential cause for Jaime’s breakup, she thought it prudent to refuse. Also, she didn’t want to add fuel to the already prevalent rumours about them that were flaring up by the day. The third reason for her refusal was her own insecurity. With each passing day, her attraction for Jaime only increased, however hard she tried to fight it.

_The way he held me at the pool…_

“I’ll go by myself, Jaime,” she found herself saying. “Thanks for offering, though.”

“Why?” he looked perplexed. “You live close by. I can very well come with you--”

“I said no.” That came out harsher that she had intended it to be.

Jaime came back to his desk, frowning. Putting his backpack on the chair next to her, he stood there fuming for a few seconds, glaring at her. “It’s about him, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“I don’t know--”

“You’d go home alone with Tormund but you can’t stand my company,” he shouted suddenly, his voice sounding louder as the floor was empty and silent.

“Tormund is not even in the picture.” It was Brienne’s turn to be angry now. Jaime was such an idiot. Not wanting to drag this further, she made her way out of the bay, but Jaime blocked her path.

Folding his arms across his chest, he glared at her. “Did you sleep with him, Brienne?”

This was the second time today that someone tried to intervene in her personal matters. He had no right to pry. “Who I sleep with is none of your business!” she shot back.

“You did, didn’t you.” His eyes gleamed with fury. “I could’ve guessed, the way he was looking at you in the pool, the way he clung to you later that evening, never leaving your side for even a second.”

“He had no ill intentions,” she defended Tormund. “He was just jealous of the way you touched me.” She flushed at the recollection of how he had held her, the way he had gazed at her, the pressure of his hardness against her semi-naked body. It had taken her all the self control she could muster to tear her eyes away from him and leave the pool. Tormund had been a welcome distraction that day from what could’ve ended in a disastrous one night stand with Jaime. With him, that was all it would be even if he ever showed any interest in someone as ugly as her. He was already committed and loyal as hell to Cersei.

“I succeeded, then,” he said dryly. “My intention was to get him away from you.”

“Stop interfering in my personal matters, Jaime!” she cried out. “You don’t decide who I fuck!”

“You do wish to fuck him then!” His breathing got heavier with his anger. “Go on then, I tried keeping you away from him for your own good, but I can’t deny that Tormund is best suited for you because you’re both ugly.”

Brienne stared at him in disbelief, shocked that he, of all the people in the world would bring up her looks... he, who she thought saw beyond her looks... he, who she happily assumed was her next best friend after Sansa. She was sadly mistaken.

Apparently, Jaime had decided to be ruthless with her tonight. “I’m sure you’re waiting to fuck him as soon as you get back home. That’s why you don’t want me coming with you. I don't blame you... what better option could you have after Renly rejected you?”

She stood rooted to the spot for some time, her mind blank, unable to react to the barrage of accusations and insults he continued hurling at her. When her feet had finally recovered from their temporary numbness, she wordlessly picked up her bag and dashed away, vowing never to speak to Jaime again.

The tears that had been threatening to flow for long eventually streamed down her cheeks as she half-walked and half-ran through the torrential downpour that was raging outside. Unaffected by her surroundings, she just kept going on, blinded by her thoughts, oblivious to the world around her. Lost in herself, she didn’t hear the loud honking and the screeching tyres of the speeding bus that came so close to her that she neither had the time to retreat nor move forward. When her reflexes refused to cooperate, she stood in the middle of the road, resigned to the fact that her end was near.

The bus was about to hit her when she felt a tug around her waist. Strong arms pulled her back to safety, away from the blinding headlights of the vehicle. “Fuck you, wench!” Jaime yelled, holding her tightly against him. “What the hell were you playing at? You could’ve died!”

“Get away from me, Lannister.” She pushed him away roughly. Not in the mood to argue with him any further, she straightened her blouse which was now dripping wet and clinging to her body and turned away from him. She didn’t want to see his face again. Ever.

But Jaime wouldn’t let her go that easily. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back to him, looking deeply in her eyes. “I came to talk to you, Brienne,” he was breathless from following her, and his tone soft, almost pleading.

“Not interested.” She struggled in his arms, trying to free herself, but he only pulled her closer.

“I’m sorry, Brienne,” he apologized, his hold on her tightening until she became painfully aware of his proximity. Her distress apart, she had to make an effort not to stare at him. His shirt now wet and see-through clung to his torso, enhancing his muscular frame, and the irresistibly masculine scent of him filled her nostrils. None of this was helping, and all of this was only making him sexier and unbearably enticing.

_Enough!_

“Let me go, Jaime.”

“Only if you accept my apology,” he whispered, his face inches away from her. His lips hovered dangerously close to hers, almost as if he was about to… _kiss her?_ No, it was impossible. He wouldn’t look at any woman except Cersei. Moreover, the way he treated her tonight was unpardonable.

“LET.GO.OF.ME!” Mustering all the force that she could, she wrenched free of his grasp and ran away, never looking back, never wanting to see him again.

+++++

Once she had changed and had a shower, Brienne finished her dinner in a daze and sat on the bed blankly staring at the TV which was spouting some nonsense. Her phone beeped to indicate an incoming text.

_I’m sorry, Brienne. I’ve been a fool, an idiot. I never meant to hurt you. That was my anger with Ginger manifesting itself in an extremely horrible way._

She didn’t want to know why he had said all that. She didn’t care. Not bothering to reply, she put the phone away.

Five minutes later, another ping.

_I have to talk to you, wench. I’m downstairs. Get dressed and join me, let’s go for a coffee, or an ice cream, or whatever… your choice._

And yet again, she decided not to answer. Switching off the lights, she retired to bed, when the phone rang. It was him. After an entire ring had gone by, there was another message.

_Please reply, Brienne. Believe me, I feel completely miserable._

When she was in two minds whether to reply or not, the phone rang again. She frowned at the name of the caller. What could Cersei possibly want with her at this hour?

“You still won’t stay away from my boyfriend, will you?” said the cold, sweet voice on the other side.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t pretend, Brienne.” Brienne could hear the jealousy in her tone. “I saw you kissing Jaime sometime back, just across the street. Would you deny it?”

“I didn’t kiss him, it was not what it seemed to be,” Brienne tried to reason with her. “I was about to be run down by a bus. If it were not for Jaime--”

“What were you both doing alone at this hour in the rain?”

“I--” Brienne couldn’t think of a convincing explanation.

“Go on, I’m waiting.”

Suddenly tired and infuriated with having to justifying every action to complete strangers around her, Brienne decided to put an end to this crap. “I'm not interested in discussing this any further. Good night, Cersei.” she said coldly before disconnecting the call.

By the time she had finished the call, there was one more message from Jaime.

_I understand you don’t want to speak to me now. I’ve been a jerk and I deserve it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning during the coffee break._

With Cersei’s call aggravating her distress, Jaime was the last person she wanted to speak to right now. Switching her phone off, she buried herself in the blanket, hoping for the most horrible day of her life to come to an end soon.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Brienne be able to forgive him this time?

Brienne pulled out the blaring phone from her handbag half expecting the call to be either from Jaime or his obnoxious cousin. She was, however, pleasantly surprised when she saw the name flashing on the screen.

“Good Morning,” came Sansa’s chirpy voice. “What’s up?”

“I’m good,” Brienne replied, wondering why Sansa was up so early that morning. 9 a.m in Braavos was 6:30 in the morning, Westerosi time. “What’re you doing awake so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d have a little chat with you.”

“How’re things?” Brienne was worried for a moment if all was well with the girl. “How’s Tyrion?”

“Everything’s wonderful, Tyrion’s fine.” Brienne could hear the smile in her voice at the mention of the younger Lannister sibling.

“Glad to hear that,” Brienne said warmly, genuinely happy for her friend.

“How’re things at your end?” Sansa inquired. “How’s Jaime?”

Her head was throbbing with stress-induced migraine, a painful reminder of last night’s drama. “Things are good.” She faked a cheerful tone, praying Sansa wouldn’t see through it. “He’s fine.”

“You sound strange.” Sansa exhaled deeply. “Something’s wrong and you’re upset. Did you guys end up arguing again?”

Obviously upset, Brienne was overcome by an impulsive emotional urge to confide in someone, and began giving Sansa a detailed word-by-word account of everything that she had been through.

“I agree he insulted you again, and I’m not suggesting that you should pardon him for that,” Sansa said, once she had heard the whole story. “But somewhere, deep down, why do I get the feeling that he’s trying to fight something? This mockery, these insults...they appear to be a facade, a mask to cover up for… I don’t really know what, but I don’t think he means to be nasty to you.” There was a long spell of silence. “He cares for you, Brienne, I’m pretty much sure about that.”

“He loves Cersei.” Brienne’s voice quivered betraying her emotions. Not a person who wore her heart on her sleeve or her emotions on her face, she pushed herself to regain her composure. “That nasty little bit--” she held her tongue, not wanting to stoop to the level of calling Cersei a bitch. “That crazy woman called me last night. She thinks I’m a threat to her love--” she took a deep breath, struggling to stay calm “--that I’m out to steal Jaime from her. As if she doesn’t know that he wouldn’t look at another woman! Jaime is just a friend, she has nothing to fear from me, the ugly, plain, boring wench that I am.”  She consciously slowed down, keeping a careful watch on the traffic as she crossed the road.

Once again, there was pin drop silence for a couple of seconds. “I was under the impression that there was nothing between you other than physical attraction and deep mutual respect, but…” The _but_ sounded dangerous, for Sansa wasn’t dumb, she could put two and two together. Brienne felt the phone slip off her hand, her palm damp with sweat as she guessed what was to come. “Have you come to regard him as more than a friend, Brienne? Why do I get the feeling that you and him--”

“No!” Brienne denied vehemently. “Jaime Lannister is the last person I can ever think of falling in love with. Yes, I may have been a bit attracted to him, but that’s what it is. It can never be anything more than that.”

“I never implied you were in love with him,” Sansa went on, her tone laced with suspicion. “Unless it’s true and you really are--”

“It’s not,” Brienne cried out, interrupting her again. “I’m NOT in love with him.” She was thankful that Sansa couldn’t see her face. “Far from it, I can’t stand the sight of him.”

“Hmm,” was all Sansa said. “What did you tell Cersei?”

“Nothing. I just cut her off.”

“Are you going to speak to Jaime again?”

“I don’t think so.” Brienne thought of the numerous messages he had sent her all night, the latest one with a timestamp of 5 a.m.

“It is not my place to tell you what to do, Brienne, but make sure you take the right decision,” Sansa advised her. “All I can say is, follow your heart. Let your mind lead you, not your brain.”

The two women continued chatting about general stuff and work until Brienne reached office and swiped in. “Bye, Sansa,” she disconnected, smiling, when she had reached her desk. Glad to talk to a friend who wasn't judgemental, it was a huge relief to get the burden off her chest after last night’s emotionally draining conflict.

The floor was empty, save for Bronn who was typing away furiously. “Early today?” Brienne tossed the question at him casually, hoping he would explain Jaime’s absence. Usually the two roommates arrived together, with Jaime hardly ever turning up late.

Bronn wheeled his chair around to face her. “What happened last night, Brienne?” For a change his expression was solemn, no hidden taunt, no mockery, just a concerned frown which left her slightly worried about Jaime. “After you stormed off, he went chasing after you, feeling desperately miserable about what he had said. He--”

“Is he okay?” she asked, fear rising in her chest. She didn’t care for details, she just had to know if he was fine. “Why is he not in office?”

“He didn’t go home last night.” Bronn’s frown deepened. “He called me around 3-ish in the morning, he sounded upset. He was out, I could hear the rain around him. It was around 5 by the time he reached home.”

Brienne froze. The last message from Jaime was at 5 a.m.

“Is he okay?” she repeated, dreading the answer.

When Bronn nodded, she sank into her chair in relief. “He came home soaked to the skin. It looked like he was out in the rain all night.” Bronn dragged his chair closer to hers. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but whatever it was did get him all disturbed and agitated last night. He’s down with high fever--”

_And, I’m the cause for it…_

“How is he now?”

“The doctor says it’s viral fever. He should be good to go in about 2-3 days. But now, he needs some rest and someone to take care of him.”

“What about Cersei?” Brienne hoped his cousin would attend to him in this hour of need.

“She had to leave for Westeros early this morning,” Bronn informed her. “Her father is unwell so she took the first flight to King’s Landing.”

So Jaime was all alone!

“I wish I could stay back and attend to him.” Bronn’s face fell. “I’ve been in office all night, taking a break to go home just to check on him once. I’m leaving in sometime, so I’ll make sure he gets everything he needs. But I have a night shift scheduled again tonight, so I’m not sure how he’s gonna cope in my absence.”

“I hope he does.”

“I do too, but I do wish one of us could stay with him again tonight. Just to keep an eye on him. I assumed Cersei would, but since she’s not in--” He looked at her expectantly, and Brienne instantly understood what he was trying to imply.

“We’ll manage somehow.” Brienne avoided thinking about it and fired up her laptop. She started checking her emails, the constantly mounting guilt of her being the cause for Jaime’s illness slowly beginning to weigh her down.

_I’m not completely responsible. Had he not hurt me, this would never have happened. He need not have chased me, nor did he have to get drenched in the rain for me..._

_But he saved my life....had he not arrived in the nick of the moment..._

_But then, all this would not have happened had he not opened his mouth in the first place._

“I almost forgot.” Bronn broke into her thoughts. He handed her a roughly wrapped package and an envelope. “Jaime asked me to give it to you.”

Opening it, she found a huge box of her favourite brand of chocolates. _Where the hell did he manage to find this at 6 in the morning?_ The envelope enclosed an _‘I’m Sorry’_ card in it which bore a message from him.

_Brienne,_

_I’m probably repeating myself for the nth time, but I’d still like to say it once more. I’m sorry._

_Regards,_

_Jaime_

_P.S : I would've sent you roses too, but I somehow got the feeling that you weren’t the flowers type, and roses definitely aren’t to your taste. But I was sure you’d appreciate the chocolates._

How on earth did he know?

“Would you forgive him, then?” Bronn had been staring at her for quite some time. “He was out in the rain all night, figuring out how to convince you--”

“While I appreciate this,” she held out the chocolates. “It doesn’t mean I should condone his behaviour.” Her eyes burned, angry tears threatening to flow at the recollection. “You were there, Bronn, you heard what he said.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “I’m not saying what he did was pardonable. But the man cares for you, Brienne. He’s an idiot. He didn’t mean a word of what he said last night. For fook’s sake, he defended you against Renly!”

“Why did he hurt me then?” she shouted, not even attempting to control her decibel level anymore. “He behaved exactly like Renly!”

“I’m afraid, he’s the only one who can answer that.”

+++++

Brienne didn’t find the time to dwell on it for the rest of the day. The bank’s cut-over to the new CBS system was planned for that weekend, and today was already Tuesday. In a way that was a relief to her. Once the bank migrated, she could return home immediately, give or take a couple of weeks at the most. Away from Jaime, away from all this mess, far from the distress that had begun to consume her day and night.

 _Why is it that I’m attracted to the wrong men everytime?_ This time she decided she would take control of her heart. She couldn’t allow Renly to happen all over again.

The phone buzzed again and she glanced at it half-expecting, half-hoping the call to be from Jaime. And yet again, the identity of the caller left her surprised.

“Hey!” she greeted him, happy to hear his voice after a long time. “How’re you doing?”

“Good, how about you, Brienne?” Tyrion replied.

“I’m fine,” she said, wondering why he had called her out of the blue.

“Listen, Brienne, Sansa told me what happened--”

Why the hell did Sansa have to announce it to everyone? “I can sort it out, it’s nothing important--”

“It is important,” he insisted. “Watch out for Cersei,” he warned her, the concern in his voice evident. “She’s family, and I shouldn’t be saying this, but if she has threatened you, she’d go to any extent to get back at you.”

“She thinks I’m having an affair with Jaime. That’s absolutely untrue and--” she paused, not wanting to give Tyrion too many details. “As she wishes I’m going to keep away from your brother--”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that at all,” Tyrion said emphatically. “Just be wary of her, okay? I’m worried she might try to harm you. You’re the best friend Jaime has ever had, I’ve never seen him happier in anyone else’s company. So don’t let her jealousy put a dampener to that.”

“I don’t think it’s going to work out--”

“I’ve got to go, Brienne.” There was a sudden urgency in his tone. “Cersei is here in King’s Landing, and I’m going to have a word with her too. Just… just be careful.”

Minutes after Tyrion had hung up, Brienne was still thinking about what he had said. What did he mean by Cersei wanting to harm her? Anyway, she had decided after last night that it would be in her best interest to keep away from anyone who bore the name Lannister. Jaime was free to be happy with Cersei. Their life was none of her concern, and she would no longer try to breach the line of professionalism with him.

“Not leaving?” Bronn was back, ready to begin his night shift. Suppressing a yawn, she checked the time. 8 p.m was pretty early by her usual standards, but she had hardly slept last night so catching up on some sleep wouldn’t hurt.

“Just about to pack up.” She got up. “How’s Jaime?” she couldn’t help asking despite wanting to be indifferent.

“In bed, asleep. The fever has subsided a bit, but he’s extremely weak, the effect of the antibiotics is telling on him.”

“Has he had anything to eat?”

“He wasn’t hungry when I left,” Bronn said. “Said he’d manage. I hope he does. It’s not good to go to bed hungry when you’re sick.”

“I’ve got to leave.” she waved him a quick bye. “See you, then.”

Fortunately, today the weather was clear, and within no time she was home. Picking up some supplies from the supermarket on the way home, she stopped at her building’s gate, deciding to take a little detour.

+++++

“Wench?” Jaime’s face was a combination of shocked surprise and unmistakable delight when he opened the door. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in office… or at home?”

The last thing Brienne expected was to see a semi-clad Jaime standing in front of her wearing nothing but a bathrobe, which left a good part of his chest and most of his legs exposed. Did a fever not call for clothes less revealing? Which idiot walked around with his chest half exposed when he suffered from chills? “If I’ve come at the wrong time, I’ll just… go,” she turned away, her heart thundering, ready to flee at the slightest chance. What was she thinking barging into his apartment without an invitation?

Before she could run away, he caught her wrist. “Did I say that?” His hand was burning hot. The intensity of his fever shot through her the moment he touched her. “Come on in,” he croaked, his voice barely audible due to his sore throat. Pulling her inside, he shut the door behind him.

Brienne looked around awkwardly, wondering how to break the ice.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the couch. “Shall I get you something--”

“Have you eaten, Jaime?”

“Not yet. I had begun cooking, but ended up tired and drained within minutes. I did try to cut a few veggies, but--” He held out a bandaged thumb. “I can barely use my right hand for anything now, it hurts like hell.”

“Go and lie down,” she said, feeling sorry for him. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to,” he protested. “We can order something.”

“I know I don’t have to.” She kept her tone politely firm, but with a certain degree of distance. She couldn’t afford to get too close to him. “But I would still like to. I don’t want you to eat outside food when you’re sick. So why don’t you cover yourself with a few more layers and stay still in bed till I get you your dinner.”

“Thank you, Brienne.” His eyes shone with so much sincerity and gratitude that it made her want to run to him and give him a hug, to tell him that everything would be fine, that he would be fine.

 

 

 

*****

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

 

 

 

“Here you are,” Brienne handed him a steaming bowl of soup. “Hope you like it.” She hurried away to attend to something else that was cooking.

Jaime took a whiff of the soup, inhaling the delicious aroma with a contented sigh, the flavour making him feel half better already. He tried to grip the spoon with the rest of his fingers minus the bandaged thumb, but everytime he brought it close to his lips it would slip splashing him with its contents.

“You haven’t touched it.” The wench had returned with a plate full of food. “Is it that bad?”

“No!” he said hastily before she had a chance to take offence. “I haven’t tasted it yet. I’m sure it’s brilliant. It’s just that I’m finding it difficult to--” he held out his injured hand. “I’m waiting for it to get a bit cold so I can drink it off the bowl directly--”

“You can’t do that!” Her eyes were wide with shock and disgust. “Cold soup is no help, and drinking it off the bowl is--” she made a face “-- _gross_.”

Jaime shrugged helplessly. “I have no other option.”

Brienne approached his bed. “Move,” she ordered him, shifting the blankets to make room for her to sit. “Give me the bowl.” She fed him in silence, her eyes fixed on his pillow.

“How’s the soup?” she asked, after a long, uncomfortable spell of silence.

“Fantastic,” he gushed. “Nothing like a bit of chicken soup to soothe a cold.” He didn’t know what else to say to dissipate the tension.

A few more minutes of tense silence followed.

“Listen, I--” they both spoke in unison.

“You first.” Jaime decided to let her speak, leaning back into his pillow.

“Why didn’t you go home last night?” She finally looked up at him.

“Didn’t you read my messages?”

“I did,” she said softly. “Which is why I want to know.”

“Have you forgiven me?” It had been eating him since last night and he had to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

“How long were you out in the rain?” She asked pointedly, ignoring his question.

“Till about early morning--”

She looked livid. “Were you drunk?” The polite calm was gone, replaced by an agitated, high-pitched tone. “Or were you out of your mind?”

“I probably was,” he admitted. “I stood downstairs, waiting for you, hoping that any minute you might come… I didn’t dare turn up at your doorstep, so I stayed put--”

“You’re the biggest idiot I’ve met, do you know that?”

He allowed himself a small smile. “Does it mean I’m forgiven?”

“Look, Jaime, I really can’t deal with this repeatedly.” She put the bowl aside and began fiddling with her fingernails. “You say something to hurt me and then you apologize, expecting me to behave as if nothing’s wrong.”

“I understand.” Jaime nodded, his heart heavy with remorse. “All I can say is that I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make amends for my abominable behaviour. I won’t push you any further, you don’t have to be normal with me or forgive me immediately. Take your time.”

Brienne turned slightly red. “Thanks for the chocolates, I appreciate the gesture, and…” she pressed her lips together, looking slightly hesitant about what she was about to say. “Thank you for saving my life. If it weren’t for you last night--”

“You have nothing to thank me for, wench.” He shuddered to think what would’ve happened if he had failed to reach her on time. “I was responsible for your troubled state of mind. If it makes you feel any better, you don’t owe me anything, that was the least I could’ve done. I couldn’t have lived with myself if you had come under that bus.”

“It’s because of me you’re lying there, suffering.” She looked away, blinking.

“And you more than made up for it by cooking me dinner.” He grinned, glad that she was atleast speaking to him. “I appreciate it, Brienne. I really do.”

“Enough of talking,” she decided. “Time for you to finish dinner first.” Picking up the plate that she had keep at his bedside table, she began feeding him. “I hope your cut heals soon.”

“I hope so, too,” he looked at his hand ruefully. He hated depending on others for things as simple as this.

Once they had eaten, she cleared the plates away. “Leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll take care of them tomorrow. It’s quite late--” he glanced at the time on his mobile “--you might want to go home and relax. Tomorrow’s another busy day--”

“I’m staying here tonight,” she announced, leaving him dumbfounded.

“Brienne, you don’t have to--”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t _have to_ do anything,” she scolded him. “Look at you! You can barely sit up. I can’t leave you alone. What if you need something during the night--”

“I can manage,” he said, without much conviction. Albeit weak and tired with the fever burning through his body, the idea of Brienne spending the night with him was appalling, and even scandalous, coming to think of it. The last thing he wanted was to feed the already growing nasty rumours of their alleged affair.

“You can’t,” she was firm and adamant, back to her usual stubborn self. “I can’t risk it since Bronn won’t be here until morning.”

“Okay,” he decided to stop resisting. “You can take Bronn’s bedroom.”

“I’ll go and change.” She went away, leaving Jaime once again confused with the way things were going.

He had not expected her to simply forgive and forget, so that was fine. He had resolved to stay within his limits and keep away from her personal life, but the possibility of her turning up unannounced at his doorstep like this was something he had not anticipated. No doubt, he welcomed another human presence in the house, but he had expected Cersei to be around instead of Brienne had she not left so abruptly this morning.

He sat there fiddling with his mobile, watching a few videos, hoping to doze off soon.

“Jaime,” Brienne called out in a small voice. Jaime craned his neck, but couldn’t see her. She was probably just at the entrance, away from his line of sight.

“I’m fully dressed, wench,” he replied, looking down at his bathrobe which seemed sufficient enough to cover him to a decent extent. Over and above that he was wrapped in a couple of sheets and a blanket. “You can come in.”

“It’s not about you.” Her voice became soft, almost shy. For no apparent reason, he felt a pleasant tingle at the base of his spine. It was almost as if he could hear her blushing, and that was beginning to put strange ideas into his head.

“What, then?” he insisted, now getting impatient and increasingly curious. “Why don’t you come in?”

“I have a small problem,” came the embarrassed voice again. Was it his imagination, or did she sound abnormally girlish for her nature?

“Are you okay? Should I come there?” He pushed the blankets away, ready to get up, worried that she might be in some sort of trouble.

“No, hold on,” she said hastily.  “I’m coming.”

She entered, wearing one of Bronn’s sheets...  _wearing_ _only that_. When she noticed Jaime blatantly staring at her, she reddened.

He tried to breathe normally, hoping his furiously thumping heart would slow down. “What’s wrong?” he asked, ignoring the pleasant tingle which was gradually increasing in intensity.

“My…” She pulled down the sheet a bit at the back, leaving her bra visible. “I’ve been struggling to take it off for the past fifteen minutes. The hook is stuck, I’m not able to undo it.” She looked as if she would die of shame. “I could pull it off my head, but I’m damn sure I’ll end up ripping the flimsy fabric if I do that. I need some help...” She sat down with her back to him. “Can you…” She lowered the sheet further, exposing her pale, smooth back, waiting for him to do the needful.

And all Jaime could do was stare in disbelief at the glorious sight in front of him! The pleasant tingle was now threatening to turn into so much more. The sheet was down to her hip, with her back completely bare except for the delicate lacy strap across it. She perched at the edge of the bed, clutching the front of the sheet to her chest in a proactive bid to cover her breasts.

“Jaime,” she repeated, her voice almost a whisper. “Would you…”

“Yeah,” he managed, his tone an unintended throaty growl, something which was damn sure had nothing to do with his cold.

He felt her body stiffen as his fingers ghosted over her back when he tried to unhook the awfully sexy piece of garment that had tormented him in Pentos. The hook refused to budge, entangled in the fabric, but with some effort and precision he was able to undo the strap and spread it open. He could've let her go, but his palms lingered on her skin, caressing her back till she shuddered at his touch. Inching his hands upwards, he pulled down the shoulder straps until they were down to her elbows. Almost immediately, she let go of the sheet, Jaime assumed, with the intention of freeing her hands to adjust the displaced undergarment. But before she could pull it back in position, the bra slid further down, and with the sheet now on her lap as well, her chest was completely exposed but tantalizingly out of his sight. Worse still, when she bent to pick up the sheet, he got a partial side-view of her wonderful breasts, the fleeting, teasing glance enough to leave his imagination running wild and his body on fire. It didn’t help that his dick was already reacting to the visions that his messed up head was beginning to bring up.

“I think I can manage the rest,” she said, her voice sounding as if she had a sore throat as well. It was only then that he realized that his hand was still on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” he dropped his hands hastily, tearing his eyes away from her back.

Picking up her bra, she got off the bed, bunching the sheet to her chest as she left the room, her face a bright flaming red.

Jaime let out a huge sigh when she was finally gone, forcibly evicting the disturbing thoughts from his head. Staying away from her was becoming increasingly difficult.

+++++

When Jaime woke up, it was still dark. His mind was hazy and his head heavy from the aftermath of the fever and the antibiotics. Unable to see a thing in the pitch dark, he was about to get up and reach for the light switch when he felt a warm body under his blanket, curled up next to him.

 _Cersei!_ His mind went to his cousin immediately, his erection springing to life at once, aching to be inside her. He didn’t need lights for what he wanted to do to her, nor did he need to keep his eyes open. Snuggling closer, he wrapped his arm around her, sliding his hand under her t-shirt, letting it wander over her body. When he cupped her breast, she squirmed pleasurably at his touch, his cock growing harder at the response. Pressing his body into hers, he turned her around so that she was on her back. Bending down, he nuzzled into her neck, slowly kissing his way upwards. She moaned in her sleep, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Eager to make love to her after what seemed to be ages, he slipped his other hand down her waistband, his lips almost on hers, hungry to taste her, yearning to devour her. He was about to kiss her hard, when the mental image of Cersei faded, Brienne’s face and body replacing her in his head. The shock of it jolted him to consciousness, filling him with horror when he realized who it was that he had been trying to get intimate with.

“Brienne, I…” he froze, stunned and speechless, his limbs overcome with numbness.

Brienne was wide awake by now as well. “Jaime, no!” she gave him a violent push, the force of it nearly throwing him off the bed. Horrified at what he had done and fully awake by now, he turned on the lights. She got off the bed and quickly straightened her clothes so that she was decently covered.

“I’m sorry, Brienne.” He didn’t know what else to say, how else to say it. “Believe me, I thought it was Cersei. I never intended to, I can’t imagine I did that to you.” He looked away, terrified, hoping she would overlook what would have ended up being a terrible blunder had he gone on for a few more minutes. What he deliberately avoided telling her was that it was _not_ Cersei his subconscious mind desired.

“It’s okay,” she said, having regained her composure by now. “It wasn’t your fault. You were half-asleep, in a semi-conscious state and you missed her. It happens. Medicines tend to have that effect at times.”

Jaime heaved a sigh of relief, glad that she understood. Thank god, this had not escalated beyond proportions. But hang on… what was she… “What were you doing in my bed, wench? I thought you were in the other room.”

It was her turn to look embarrassed. “I got up in the middle of the night and came here to check on you. You were shivering, and since there are no heaters around, I thought I might--” She blushed, leaving the rest to his understanding.

“--try to keep me warm?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to violate your personal space.” She looked even more flustered. “On second thoughts, I shouldn’t have entered your room without warning, the fault was mine--”

“No,” he cut in. “I just assumed you were Cersei because she’s the only woman I’ve ever had in my bed--”

“Really?” Her eyes grew wide with surprise. “You’re kidding, right?” She looked curious, the awkwardness of the situation now behind her.

“Well, she’s been the only one for me,” he admitted. “I never felt the need to… look elsewhere. I’m monogamous, I’ve always been.”

“That’s sweet.” Brienne gave him a warm smile. “I’d love to date a man like that.”

“Would you?” Jaime asked, before he could stop himself. “I mean, I don’t know what sort of a person Tormund is, but--”

“I’ll make you some tea.” She changed the subject abruptly at the mention of Tormund’s name. “And then, I’ve got to leave. Have to go home and get ready for work.”

“Thanks, Brienne.”

“Stop thanking me for every little thing, Jaime.”

Why had she changed the subject when he brought up Tormund? Was that another subtle hint for him to stay away from her love life? Well, if Tormund was the one for her, if he made her happy, then it made sense for him to stay out of it and keep his bloody mouth shut. With a heavy heart, Jaime decided never to question her about him and to keep his nose away from her personal matters.

 

 

*****

 

 

 

Cersei paced the lobby, taking in the change in the surroundings. She had been to the Westeros International office after a long time, for the first time infact, since she had walked out on her last day.

“Cersei!” There came the obnoxiously familiar voice she had been trying to avoid. “Long time, no see.”

“Hello, Tyrion,” she greeted him coldly. “I’ve been busy, unlike some others who spend their spare time drinking and whoring--”

“I don’t--”

“Cut the crap, cousin, and tell me why you wanted to see me,” she hissed, not wanting to waste time in socializing with the imp.

“Stay away from Brienne Tarth,” Tyrion warned her. “She’s the most decent person I’ve come across, and I don’t want you messing around with her.”

“She had better keep away from Jaime then,” she replied, irritated that Tyrion took her side. Why did everyone in their family love this woman so much? “I can’t bear the thought of her sleeping with Jaime.”

“She’s not sleeping with Jaime,” Tyrion said firmly. “They are good friends and she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him--”

“Correction,” she interrupted. “I am the best thing that has ever happened to Jaime and I want that to continue.”

“If you don’t leave her alone, I’m afraid there will be consequences.” Tyrion flashed her a sly smile which usually meant that his super-sharp brain was up to something.

“Come to the point,” she demanded, unsettled by his threat.

“What if Jaime were to know about your dalliance with Lancel?” He smiled wider, enjoying her uneasiness at the mention of Lancel’s name.

“How do you know?”

“I have my sources, sister. If you happen to harm Brienne--”

Her blood grew cold. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“Ofcourse I am. What else did it sound like? Think about it.”

As he waddled out of the lobby, a germ of a plan was beginning to grow in Cersei’s head once the initial shock of his threat had subsided. She smiled to herself. If what she thought could be accomplished, she could have both; Tyrion would learn a bitter lesson while the Tarth bitch would be far away from Jaime.

Fishing out her mobile from her purse, she searched her contact list for a number. As long as she was around, no one could dare get close to Jaime and get away with it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, things take an ugly turn as Cersei decides to poke her nose into their matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added a few pointers in the end to explain some technical terms for anyone who's interested :)

“Morning!” Jaime beamed at her as he entered, his tone unusually chirpy.

“Hey,” Brienne replied, quickly turning to her laptop, sparing him no more than a fleeting glance.

Confused by his sudden eagerness to be extra-nice to her, she didn’t know whether to be upset about it, or relieved. Days had passed since that awkward morning when she had woken up in his arms, when he had almost kissed her, her heart thumping like hell every single time she recalled his touch, wondering what would have happened had they not come to their senses on time. That day onwards, his attitude towards her had changed. For the better? She didn’t know. Things between them were back to normal again after that unpleasantness; if normal meant maintaining a courteous distance with both of them consciously keeping off personal matters. Fair enough, as Cersei was now back from Westeros, and all seemed to be fine between the two of them, it went without saying that Jaime would have to stay away from Brienne. No more awkwardness, and no sticky moments either. That should have actually made her happy, but why was there a lingering sense of emptiness inside her? It seemed as if something inside her was… lost… missing, gone forever.

Unfortunately, she realized with a pang, that Jaime had everything to do with the way she felt. _Why am I always drawn to unattainable men who’ve been spoken for?_

Tormund, on the other hand, never missed an opportunity to please her. No matter how hard she tried to be civil to him, she couldn’t do his courtesy justice, for her heart always sought Jaime immediately. But perhaps, it was time for things to change, for her outlook to change. If Jaime wanted to keep her at an arm’s length, so would she. She had to meet other men to keep her mind away from the Lannister who occupied her thoughts 24/7. Why not Tormund?

 _But he isn’t Jaime,_ her inner voice kept nagging her everytime she wanted to focus on him.

Apart from the fact that she didn’t feel the spark and the connect with him that she instantly did with Jaime, the guy had done nothing to offend her. Why not give him a chance to see how it went? With Jaime, even if they did eventually get close, it would be a huge mistake. There could be nothing long term between them. The man was monogamous, for god’s sake, and faithful like hell to his cousin. He would never look at another woman, let alone committing himself to one. Cersei was the love of his life, the only one he ever had. Every second spent in Jaime’s company, every touch, and even the slightest whiff of his scent was nothing but anguish for her, and potential heartbreak. To add to her agony, nowadays Jaime didn’t even seem to take offence whenever she spent time with Tormund, which was most of her free time, off late. The lack of indignation on his part irritated her like crazy. Oddly, she found herself missing his concern, his possessiveness, his distaste towards _Ginger_ that he had been so vocal about earlier, annoying, though it had seemed then.

Often distracted these days, her mind refused to work when she went back to the script she had been working on. Today was Thursday, and if the bank had to begin the migration to the new CBS application by Saturday night, they had to have everything in place by end of today, leaving tomorrow and the day after as a buffer to iron out delays due to errors and inconsistencies, if any.

“You and Jaime are in the 1:00 a.m slot for the cutover,” Bronn announced, reading out what looked like an email that was open on his screen. “The schedule’s just come. Ginger and I will join you by 5 a.m--”

“--and we go on until Sunday noon.” Brienne peeked into his screen, quickly skimming through the schedule. This meant they had a solid four hours to themselves until the others came in. But what was the point? Anything that came out of impulsive passion was usually toxic, and after three failed relationships, the last thing she wanted was another sour experience.

“Hey, Brienne!” Tormund had cultivated this annoying habit of barging into her bay when she least expected it. Not that he meant any harm, just that at times when she preferred to be left alone with her thoughts, his company was somewhat unwelcome.

“Hi,” she answered, awaiting the purpose of his visit. Mostly there wouldn’t be one, as he simply found lame reasons to run into her these days.

“It’s lunch time, and--” he searched her face for any likely adverse reaction, but Brienne just looked at him politely “--why don’t we eat together today?”

“I--” Brienne was taken aback by his request, her eyes involuntarily darting towards Jaime. When he paid them no attention, glued to his screen and absorbed in his work, she decided to go ahead with Tormund’s invitation. “Sure, why don’t you gimme five minutes? I’ll join you downstairs.” She glared at Jaime. _If he doesn’t bother, then why should I!_ “I’d love to have lunch with you,” she added unnecessarily, flashing Tormund the brightest smile she could manage, hoping her cheerful acceptance might force some reaction out of Jaime. But once again, none came, his polite indifference leaving her disappointed and distressed.

+++++

_12:55 a.m : Saturday_

_Meet me at the gate in five,_ said the text from Jaime. After the night she was almost run over, there was an unspoken agreement between them that he, Bronn or Tormund, whichever of them was available would go with her at such unearthly hours. They refused to relent even after repeated protests from Brienne that she could manage just fine, she was capable of taking care of herself. _We wouldn’t want to risk it,_ was the unanimous opinion of all the three men on this, and at that, Brienne decided to concede to their demand. And that was why Jaime accompanied her to work tonight.

They walked quietly, neither of them looking at the other, each maintaining a polite distance. The office was about 800 metres and two signals away, and when they  stood at a junction to cross the road, Jaime grasped her wrist protectively, eyeing a stream of vehicles passing by. He pulled her towards him when he spotted a bus speed away.

She drew in a sharp breath, and their eyes met when she turned to him. “I can manage, Jaime,” she assured him softly as his arm brushed against hers, the touch flooding her with a warmth that pleasantly nullified the chill of the night air.

“Ofcourse… I know…” he nodded vigorously, still holding her close. “I was just reminded of--”

“--that night,” she supplied, the memory fresh in her mind. “I appreciate that you saved me.” Blinking a couple of times, she insisted again. “I really do.”

Her confession was met with a heavy sigh and then silence as they stood there gazing at each other instead of the traffic lights. “We have to… um… get going,” he murmured a few seconds later, pointing to the pedestrian signal which was now green. They crossed, his fingers still clasping her wrist tightly. He released her hand only after they made it to the other side. As they strolled along the deserted street, she couldn’t help stealing covert glances at him. She couldn’t resist admiring him, watching the breeze mess with his golden hair which reflected the moonlight, making him look all the more attractive.

Quickly composing herself, Brienne stiffened; before she could let herself get carried away with his effortless charm, there was something she wanted to tell him. “Tormund asked me out,” she admitted. “I said yes.”

She would’ve been pleased to see an angry glare on his handsome face, and a curse or two would’ve been an added bonus, but to her annoyance, Jaime turned to her, smiling. “That’s lovely, wench!” he exclaimed, his voice exuding warmth and sincerity. “You guys would make a great pair.” He hastily went on, noticing the frown on her face. “And I don’t mean that in a sarcastic sense. I’m take back what I said the other day. Tormund would make you a fantastic boyfriend. He admires and respects you a lot.”

Distressed by his reaction, she could do nothing but gape at him. “Are you happy about this?” she asked, unsmiling.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His smile faded when he took in her sombre expression. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”

She pressed her lips and stared at the ground, suppressing a sigh. _If you’re happy hearing this, how the hell do you expect me to be happy?_ She looked up at him, forcing herself to smile. “Ofcourse,” she replied. “You’re probably right, Tormund might make a wonderful boyfriend.”

The covered the reminder of the walk in silence. When they swiped in through the gates and made it to their floor, they were the only two people who were in. Jaime whistled, looking around him as the unearthly silence amplified their footsteps. “Looks like a ghost town,” he observed. “I’ve never seen our floor this empty before.”

Brienne checked her watch. “Only for the next four hours. After that, we’ll have Bronn and the rest of the gang for company.” _Four more hours where we’ll be the only ones around,_ she thought, her skin breaking into goosebumps at the thought. When she moved past him to reach her desk, she accidentally brushed against him, briefly meeting his eye for a fleeting second, the contact sending a tingling sensation down her spine. “Sorry,” she muttered, perturbed by the effect he had on her. Her hands still shaking, she took a few seconds to settle down before firing up her laptop.

As the main in-charge of the cutover process from their side, it fell upon Jaime to do the work allocation for the team. “The table scripts to be run on the production database are copied to the shared folder,” he said. “I’ve sent you the link to the path. Can you quickly run through them and let me know if any corrections are required?”

Nodding her affirmation, Brienne opened the files in a notepad and began scanning through them methodically. “Um… Jaime,” she called out after almost a monotonous hour of reading through a mountain of scripts. “Why does this _INSERT_ script have a _TRUNCATE_ statement at the end?” she asked, puzzled if this was even a genuine mistake. “I mean, all our folks do have the basic understanding that a _truncate_ is going to wipe out everything in the table including the rows inserted by the script--” she examined the script again to make sure she wasn’t reading it incorrectly “--who could write something this stupid?”

_Unless, it’s deliberate..._

“Just correct it and move on for now,” Jaime dismissed her concern, distracted with something else on his screen. “We don’t have the time to punish the one responsible immediately, we can find out and deal with them later.”

“Fine,” she agreed, the observation leaving her with a bitter taste in the mouth. _Who the hell would make a mistake as trivial as this?_ Nevertheless, she sifted through the rest of the scripts, take extra care to spot any anomaly. She found nothing, everything else seemed to be in order.

“I’m done, I need a break,” she announced, stretching her arms wearily. Night shifts were quite an ordeal, and she had to give Bronn and the rest of the guys who did this every other day due credit for pulling it off on a regular basis. “Coffee?” she asked, turning to Jaime.

If he was surprised by her invitation, he didn’t show it. “Sure,” he said, getting up and following her outside. As soon as they entered the pantry, they were accosted by a bunch of juniors who had travelled to Braavos just a day earlier. All of them were fresh from college, young and excited to be a part of such an event for the first time in their careers.

“Mr. Lannister, Ms. Tarth,” one of them called out. “We’re taking some pictures to commemorate the big day. Why don’t you join us?”

“We’re sort of busy--” Brienne began, thinking how not to hurt them.

“Sure, why not.” Jaime agreed cheerfully. When he saw that she was reluctant to oblige them, he gave her a look which requested her to comply. “C’mon, Brienne, they’re just kids who’ve never seen a bank go live before. We can spare five minutes to indulge them.” He took her by the hand and led her to them.

Still hesitant to pose for them, Brienne stood by the coffee machine, watching, as Jaime took a variety of pictures with the group. When the boy who invited them insisted on her participation, she politely declined.

“One pic, ma’am,” he urged, unwilling to let her be in peace. “The two of you,” he said, glancing in Jaime’s direction.

Alarmed at the idea, her eyes darted towards the exit. “No--” she began, when Jaime intervened.

“It’s just a photo, Brienne.” He seemed to be more upset with her refusal than them. “One picture with me isn’t going to hurt you--”

“That’s not what I meant, Jaime.”

“Come on, then,” he coaxed her. He pulled her beside him, posing with her for a snap, his proximity once again triggering strange feelings inside her.

While he tried to maintain a respectable distance, their young companions wouldn’t let them get away with it. “A little closer, both of you,” the one with the camera insisted.

In an unexpected move, Jaime draped his arm around her shoulder, taking her completely by surprise.

“Perfect.” The photographer gave them a thumbs-up and went back to focussing. A few awkward seconds later they were done, but Jaime’s hand continued to rest on her shoulder.

“Jaime, we’re done,” she whispered, her cheeks burning as the smell of his aftershave filled her nostrils. “Let’s go.”

_And let go of me… Stop tormenting me like this._

“Sorry,” he released her, returning to his crisp, professional demeanour once again.

Having no more time to spare, they took the coffee to their desk and resumed working. “Hey, could you come here for a minute?” he called out to her after a while. “This function seems to be aborting no matter what inputs I feed it. Not sure if it’s a bug or a peculiar data condition.” He got up to make room for her. “While you take a look at this, I’ll just make a quick trip to the PM’s office.” He went, leaving her alone with it.

She sat down, and began working on his laptop to debug the problematic piece of code. About half an hour later when she was finally successful, she got up. Yawning, she made her way to the ladies room to wash her face and gear up for the real action that was to come. Splashing water on her sleep deprived eyes, she stared at the reflection in the restroom mirror, her thoughts returning to Jaime’s nasty statement. _Tormund is best suited for you because you’re both ugly_. A dull, depressing ache spreading through her chest, she resigned to the fact that Jaime wasn’t lying. She was unworthy of any man’s attention, and Tormund’s came as a surprise. Though the man was annoying at times, he had done nothing so far to hurt her, whereas Jaime on the other hand…

 _Tormund, not Jaime,_ she kept telling herself. _That’s who is in my future. Not the man I’m terribly attracted to, but the one I have to make do with._

Hours passed. By around 5:00 a.m, the rest of the crowd poured in and soon the entire floor was bustling with activity. “The abort is fixed,” she informed, when Jaime returned. She went back to her seat, leaving him to his when Bronn stood up abruptly.

“ _Fuck!_ ” he swore, looking as if he’d seen a ghost. “The Account Balances table is missing on the production database!” he exclaimed in horror. “So is its backup file on the testing server.”

“What the hell do you mean?” Jaime rushed to him, staring at his screen, his face mirroring Bronn’s expression. “How in the name of god could this have happened? Has someone deliberately deleted it--”

“Let me check the logs.” Bronn ran a few queries, a frown spreading across his face as he assessed the results. “It says, _‘accessed by JLANNISTER’_.” He turned to Jaime. “Did you--”

Brienne stared at Jaime in shock. “You didn’t--”

“Ofcourse, I didn’t!” Jaime exclaimed, looking at the two of them in disbelief. “I’m not an idiot to sabotage my own project. I’m here to repair my broken reputation, not ruin it further.”

“I didn’t mean you’re responsible for this mess,” she corrected herself, red-faced. “What I was trying to say was that the _DROP_ script was fired from your login--” she paused, suddenly remembering something. “First the hidden _TRUNCATE_ , and now this... We might be in for a bigger problem.”

“But you checked all the scripts, didn’t you?” Jaime peered at her, frowning. “I hope you didn’t accidentally run one of them without verifying--”

“I’m not irresponsible, either,” she said vehemently. “The scripts were fine but for that one issue, and I’m not someone who executes such sensitive scripts directly on the live database without cross-checking them a million times, unless--”  

“What?” he urged, impatient.

“Someone was at your laptop while I was away.” She took a deep breath, the idea filling her with disgust. “Bronn, can you check the access timestamp in the log please?”

“4:15 a.m,” he announced, verifying once again.

That was it. That was around the time she had left Jaime’s laptop unattended to go to the washroom. How could she have been so careless to leave without locking it--

_But wait a minute… I’m pretty sure I didn’t leave it unlocked. Someone’s obviously logged in with the password. And there’s only one other person apart from me who could probably have known Jaime’s login credentials._

Something struck her, something nasty, something Jaime wouldn’t like to hear. Damn it, it was so obvious that it should have occurred to her long back. When Jaime looked at her, impatiently awaiting further details, she dared to announce it to him. “Cersei.”

His eyes went from surprise to disbelief to anger. “What nonsense--”

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” she said, having 100% faith in her guess. “Your cousin threatened me. She wanted to get back at me. All this exercise has been to get me into trouble. She’s been here while I was away to the washroom.”

Jaime shook his head, appalled at her suggestion. “Will you stop this, Brienne?”

But she was in no mood to listen to him. “Who else could’ve known your password apart from me? Think logically, Jaime.”

_Cersei123 indeed, what kind of a ridiculous password was that? No wonder, Cersei had guessed it within the permissible three attempts!_

“Can you stop accusing her without any basis?” he maintained his stand, refusing to listen to even a word of what she was trying to say. “Even if I agree with you for a second that it was she who did it, what would she want to get back at you for?”

“Because she’s jealous of me,” Brienne raised her voice despite trying not to. “She thinks I--” she gulped, faltering for a second “--she thinks you and I--” she looked away, unable to finish the sentence.

“She might be a bit pissed off with my friendship with you, but she knows I love no one but her. I've told her that a million times,” he roared, forgetting that Bronn was also present. “There’s no reason for her to be envious of you.”

 _There’s no reason, indeed. I’m not even 1% the beauty that she is,_ she thought to herself, her heart sinking. “You can believe me if you want, or not, that’s up to you.” She went back to her desk. “But I’m damn sure, she’s the one. Why don’t you ask her if you’re so confident that she’s innocent?”

“Are you crazy?” he lashed out at her. “You’re telling me to accuse her without proof! My personal reasons apart, are you aware that I could probably end up losing my job, or worse still, ruining my reputation if I’m proved wrong?”

“What’s wrong in finding out?” she pressed on, keen to get the truth out.

He glared at her, gritting his teeth. “Will you just--” he checked himself, turning to Bronn. “I want this sorted out right now. Try checking with the DBA if he has a backup stashed away in one of his machines.”

Brienne was miffed with his refusal to see the obvious. “Can’t you see--”

“Priorities, Brienne,” he hissed, the herculean effort to keep his voice down visible in his expression. “Let’s discuss this later. Bronn, quickly, please!”

Picking up the phone, Bronn punched an extension. After a few seconds of discussion, he hung up, giving them a thumbs-up sign. “He’ll be able to restore it. No damage done. We’re good to go.”

Hurt and upset with Jaime’s adverse reaction and adamant refusal to listen to sense, Brienne went outside, wanting to be alone for a while. “He’s just shocked,” came Bronn’s voice from behind her as she made her way to the stairs. “He can’t believe that this sweetheart could be up to something as wicked as this.”

“Stop defending him, Bronn--”

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m just trying to think how he must be feeling about all this. Torn between the woman he thinks he loves and the woman he has the highest respect and regard for.”

 _The woman he respects-that’s who I ultimately am to him, and I can never be more than that,_ she lamented silently, trying not to let Bronn see through her feelings. “That’s his problem, he has to sort it out with Cersei,” she said aloud before storming away, furiously blinking back the tears that were threatening to let her down.

By the time Brienne was back at her desk, the day had begun in full swing. Unlocking her machine, she opened her mailbox, only now having some time to check her emails. There was a barrage of unread mails awaiting her attention, but among those, there was one that attracted her attention. It was from Jaime Lannister with the subject line just a ‘Hi’. Wondering if it was a joke or a reprimand for her accusation of Cersei, she opened it tentatively and began reading.

_Brienne,_

_All that you’ve said today has crossed every acceptable limit, and I’m afraid our friendship cannot continue like this--_

What the hell?

She looked away from the screen, unable to believe his childishness. She read on, bracing herself for any further unpleasantness that was to come.

_I’m beginning to find it increasingly difficult to put up with your obvious dislike for my cousin. It’s easy to point fingers at others, wench, and from where I stand, Cersei seems to be a convenient scapegoat for you. I cannot allow this mud-slinging that you’re trying to resort to, nor can I tolerate the false allegations that you seem to be hurling at her for what seems to be an inadvertent lapse on your part._

Lapse? Seriously?

She fumed, her vision blurring with angry tears filling her eyes. She had never expected Jaime’s thoughts to be this shallow.

_Why don’t we live and let live? You can be happy with Tormund, and let me be peaceful as well. I promise to let this matter be, should you accept your mistake and decide to leave it at that. I can also assure you that this discussion will remain between the two of us._

_As for our relationship, I’m sorry, I cannot be the same as I have been all along, and all that can remain between us will be nothing but professional courtesy. I agree, there have been mistakes that I have made, but I’ve tried to make amends, to be nice, but you seem to be far too arrogant and above the rest of us to forgive and forget--_

Brienne shook her head, hurt and disgusted.

_Fuck you, Jaime Lannister, you were the one who chased me with apologies and chocolates!_

The rest of the letter was along the same lines, with him ranting about her so-called high-handed behaviour. Brienne shut the email, never having felt this angry, sad and heartbroken, all at the same time. Getting up from her desk, she dashed to Jaime, wanting to sort this out at once. “Can I have a word?” she asked, making an effort to keep her voice steady.

Jaime answered without looking at her, his eyes glued to the screen. “Yeah, gimme five minutes--”

“Now,” she thundered. “I’m waiting by the coffee machine.” She left, without waiting for a reaction.

Thankfully the pantry was empty when they reached there. Quickly glancing around to make sure they were alone, she pounced on him, seething with rage. “Why, Jaime?” she asked, without warning.

“Why… what?” he looked surprised.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” she snapped, her irritation growing by the minute. “I’m referring to that bloody stinker which you sent me some time back. Was this how you’ve always felt about me? Or has it been it triggered by this morning’s events?”

He narrowed his brows. “What stinker? I don’t--”

“Stop it please,” her voice quivered, anger rising in her chest. She repeated the contents of the email to him. “Tell me, what made you write such things?”

“I never wrote all that,” he denied, still looking confused. “I would never--”

“Please don’t lie to me. You’ve insulted me quite a number of times in the past, only this time you’ve crossed the limits of decency.”

“But, Brienne, I didn’t write it,” he persisted, maintaining his stand.

 _If he didn’t, then…_ For a minute, Brienne was inclined to take his word, wondering how that piece of shit landed in her inbox. “I believe you,” she said, concluding that there could be only one other way this could’ve happened. “It’s Cersei again,” she whispered, when he gave her a vacant look, the possibility of what might have actually happened dawning upon her. “She’s wormed her way into your mailbox just as she logged in from your machine to run that script. She sent this--”

“Enough!” His voice rang through the vacant room. “Stop accusing her again without any evidence.”

“It’s perfectly possible,” she pressed on, her voice rising. “That woman is vile enough to be capable of such nonsense. She knew I was working on your machine earlier and sneaked in those scripts in my absence to frame me. And when I guessed her involvement, she stooped to the level of sabotaging our friendship using that email she sent me through you. She thought, I’d break,” she stopped to catch her breath.

Jaime took this opportunity to speak. “I’m asking you again. Why--” his voice indicated forced calmness “--do you think she would bring you down?”

“Because she hates me!” Brienne shouted so loudly that anyone outside the pantry could’ve easily heard her.

He scowled at her. “From where I stand, the dislike seems to be mutual. You hate her no less.”

“Ask her,” she challenged. “And then tell me--”

She stopped abruptly, sensing a third presence in the pantry. “Brienne?” Tormund had just entered. “You okay? I heard raised voices, so I thought I’d check--” He froze, taking a long look at Jaime’s enraged face “Is he bothering you?”

Jaime laughed mirthlessly. “Never thought I’d see this day,” he said dryly. “That I'd have to convince _him_ that I’m not bothering you.”

“ _He_ is not the one who hurt me,” she retorted, her tone equally cutting.

“Ah, so his opinion has become more important to you than mine,” he said, his eyes shining with indignation. “My fault, I should’ve seen this coming, your new _boyfriend_ \--”

“I think that’s enough,” Tormund intervened, resulting in the two men now glaring at each other. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been treating her, Lannister, like she’s some bloody junior who joined yesterday.”

“I don’t need you to educate me about how to treat people, _Ginger_ ,” Jaime spat. “She knows quite well how I’ve--”

“He isn’t wrong, is he?” Brienne cut him. “You hurt me not long ago, and you’ve done it before as well.”

“I thought we were good after that, wench. We--”

“Yeah, but only until you refused to believe me sometime back.”

“I have immense respect for you, Brienne, but that doesn’t mean I can easily suspect Cersei without ascertaining that she’s guilty.” He didn’t allow her to speak when she opened her mouth to protest. “You’re right, someone could’ve hacked into my login, but it may not necessarily be Cersei--”

Brienne couldn’t contain herself any longer. “It is her--”

“How do you know--”

“Stop it, Lannister,” Tormund butted in again, throwing him a sharp look. “Why do I get the feeling that you used your friendship with Brienne to your advantage? You wanted to get back in the game, and she was just a ladder to your success,” he growled, his face now as red as his hair. “You kept stepping on her feet, not bothering about her, not stopping to think about how she felt. You’ve used her, taken her for-granted,” he finished, leaving them both speechless with his outburst.

A few seconds of stunned silence later, Jaime was the first to speak. “Is that what you feel too?” he asked, ignoring Tormund as he looked directly into Brienne’s eyes.

She was quiet, at a loss for how to respond.

Another long pause followed, after which it was once again Jaime who broke the silence, green eyes full of hurt meeting hers. “There’s no need to say anything else. I’ve got my answer,” he said quietly, turning towards the exit. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me in our earlier days, and... I don’t think I’ll be bothering you for the rest of your stint here.”

Before she could say another word or stop him, he walked away without sparing her a second glance.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


*****

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Was all that drama necessary? Did you have to walk out on her like that?” Bronn gave him a look of distaste, puffing on his cigarette. “You both care for each other like hell, then why in fook’s name do you end up bickering like kids for the most trivial reasons?”

“She was being unreasonable,” Jaime argued. “How does she know that Cersei is responsible?” Cersei had been jealous of the wench the one time she had confronted him, but it wasn't something that would drive her to this extent. Besides, her behaviour was absolutely normal even yesterday.

“In your anger and your blind infatuation for your girlfriend, you completely missed her point,” Bronn pointed out. “And that email--”

“I didn’t send her that email,” Jaime said defensively, the very thought that Brienne had assumed it was from him still pricking him. As if dealing with Ginger’s overbearing interest in her was not enough, his interference today in their argument was the ultimate icing on his cake of agony. “You know, I’d never hurt her again, not after what the last time led to. I lost my temper because she simply refused to hear me out. And that Ginger--” he paused, clenching his fists.

“She’s going out with him,” Bronn reminded him. “He has more say in her matters than you, my friend.”

 _Ofcourse, her new boyfriend_ . How could he confess to anyone that the very sight of the two of them together filled his heart with a strange sense of anguish he had never felt before. _Probably just a passing phase,_ he thought, for he had never seen anyone else competing with him for the wench’s attention before. He felt deprived of her company, as if someone had snatched his best friend away from him.

“Find out then,” Bronn insisted. “Ask your cousin, confront her, do whatever it takes. I doubt Brienne’s lying.”

“I didn’t say she’s lying,” Jaime replied, lost in thought. “I just find it hard to believe Cersei could do something like this. Nevertheless, I’ll talk to her at the earliest,” he resolved to himself.

He was about to go right away to speak to his cousin when his phone rang. A glance at the caller’s identity brought a smile to his face.

“Hey, bro,” he answered. “What’s up?”

“Jaime,” Tyrion sounded odd, his voice bearing an indication that something was amiss.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, slightly alarmed with his brother’s tone.

“I’m in trouble.” There was a long silence. “I’ve been accused of sexual harassment--”

“What?” Jaime couldn’t believe his ears. This couldn’t be true. Here he was, thinking Tyrion had a soft corner for Sansa, and-- “Please tell me this isn’t true.”

“It isn’t,” his brother sounded desperate. “I’ve been framed. The new girl Shae cornered me in the office party yesterday--” he paused again for a bit. “She got me drunk, one thing led to another and the next minute her pants were down and my fingers were in her cunt--”

“What the fuck!” Jaime swore, unable to believe his usually smart and sensible brother’s utter foolishness when it came to wine and women.

“Believe me, Jaime,” he pleaded. “It was consensual. She was the one who wanted it, she led me to it. When we were full on into it, she began to cry rape, attracting the attention of the entire office. I was too drunk to defend myself. The next thing I knew, she ran to HR and filed a complaint against me.”

Jaime stood there speechless, unsure of what to say.

“I’m facing an arrest, bro,” Tyrion’s voice was at its lowest. “And I’ve lost my job as well.”

All Jaime could do was shake himself out of the shock and reassure his brother. “Don’t worry,” he said, sounding as calm as he could. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Production database : Bank's live database  
> Cutover : The process where a bank migrates from one core banking application to another  
> CBS : Core Banking System  
> DBA : Database Administrator  
> INSERT/TRUNCATE : These are SQL (Structured Query Language) commands which operate on a database table. INSERTS : Inserts rows in a table. TRUNCATE : Deletes all the rows from a table-basically wipes out all data in a table  
> PM : Project Manager


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne takes an important decision. Jaime tries his best to save his little brother.

Work was finally looking good with things beginning to streamline gradually. But for the script hiccup on Saturday, the migration to the new CBS was smooth. With the team slogging throughout the weekend, by Monday morning the bank was up and running on the new software. As the day went by and the bank’s operations began stabilizing, emails from the senior management of both the bank as well as Westeros International began pouring in, congratulating Jaime Lannister and his team for the successful completion of the most coveted and gruelling project in years.

While the whole team was bubbling with energy and enthusiastically looking forward to the project success party the coming Friday, Jaime neither had the time or the inclination to be a part of any such revelry. There were other priorities that demanded his immediate attention.

“I’m leaving for King’s Landing tonight,” he announced that afternoon, speaking neither to Bronn nor Brienne in particular, though they were both seated at their desks. “I think you know why.” He lowered his voice, not wanting to wash dirty linen in public. Bronn was the only one he had confided in. He had not yet told Brienne anything about Tyrion. Since their hate-email argument, things were strained between them with both of them restricting their conversations to a bare minimum. “Jon’s incharge in my absence. So if there’s anything--”

“I hope you’re able to help your brother,” Bronn intervened. Brienne, however, sat immersed in her work, showing no reaction to his news. “Sadly, the whole office knows by now.”

“It was supposed to be confidential. How did they come to know?” The last thing he wanted was unwanted gossip.

“Unfortunately, dude, bad news spreads faster than fire.” There was sympathy in his voice, no sarcasm, nor the usual tinge of mockery, something unusual as far as his friend was concerned. “I, for one, don’t believe that he could’ve done something this disgusting. He always seemed to be a nice guy, genuinely in love with Sansa. He cared for her, I don’t see why he’d chase that Shae chick--”

“How the hell do you know Shae?” Jaime wondered aloud. “She joined after we left Westeros.”

“I have contacts, Lannister,” Bronn explained, with an air of mystery around him. “She and Baelish--”

“Who’s Baelish?”

“Petyr Baelish,” he said, eyeing Jaime’s ignorant look with disbelief. “He’s the new testing lead assigned to our offshore project. He’s been working with your brother for months. You should know what’s happening in the world around you, Lannister.”

 _Baelish._ The name sounded awfully familiar. Jaime racked his brain to remember where he had heard it. It then struck him that his father had mentioned him in the context of a fraud some years back. Sacked by his previous employer, he had disappeared for a while, only to surface now. At once, Jaime knew that this man ought to have played a part in his brother’s misfortune.

“I hope Tyrion comes clean.” It was Brienne who spoke this time. “I like him and I wish him well. And--” she swallowed, giving him a sombre look. “There’s news from my side as well. I’m leaving for King’s Landing this weekend… for good.”

 _Wait… what?_ For a moment, Jaime forgot Tyrion and his problems. The wench was leaving him… “Why?” he asked, finally finding his tongue after a long minute of stunned silence.

“I’m being recalled because of what happened with Tyrion,” she explained, looking displeased with the prospect. “I got a call from Robert sometime back. He wants me to take your brother’s place and lead the offshore wing.”

“I see.” Drumming his fingers on the table, Jaime was at a loss for what to say to her. More than Brienne taking Tyrion’s place, it was the thought that he wouldn't see her again for atleast a year that troubled him. “All the best for your next stint, Brienne,” he wished her, having nothing else to say without sounding sarcastic or inappropriate.

“Thanks, Jaime.” She managed a thin smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. _All an effect of the weekend argument,_ thought Jaime. Stiff and formal, that was what their warm friendship was now reduced to, much to his dismay and disappointment.

“Will I see you again after a year, Brienne?” Bronn inquired. “That’s when Jaime and I will be returning to Westeros. We’ve got to be here for a year to manage the onsite support.”

“I don’t know…” she trailed off doubtfully. “To be honest, I’m not too keen on taking up Tyrion’s project. I’ve been thinking of resigning as soon as I get back.”

Her decision left Jaime speechless once again. _Is it something I did, wench?_ He couldn’t bring himself to ask her that, but he was dying to know.

“Why do you want to resign?” Bronn did what he was unable to, voicing the question that was killing him. “Robert would put you in charge of any other project. You could take your pick.”

“Family reasons.” She blinked, her face once again grim. “Dad’s not keeping well, so I’ve been thinking of taking up something closer home--”

“You’re going to Tarth?” Jaime asked, surprised.

“Not immediately, and I’ve not decided anything yet,” she dismissed his question hastily. “As of now, I’ll be in King’s Landing. Once Tormund’s back in Westeros, we’ll think about what’s next on our agenda,” she revealed, turning red as she mentioned Ginger’s name.

_‘Our’ agenda…_

_So she is serious about him,_ Jaime concluded, his heart sinking as he took in her blushing face. She deserved so much better than that Gingerbeard, but there was nothing he could do about it. It was her choice, and being her well-wisher, his dignity lay in respecting her decision.

Before he could work up the courage to ask her how far their relationship had furthered, Tormund peeped in. “Lunch time,” he announced, greeting Brienne with his usual creepy grin.

Throwing a smile in her boyfriend’s direction, she got up. “I’ll see you later,” she spoke to the bay in general, taking care to avoid looking at Jaime as she left.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Bronn closed the lid of his laptop and turned to him. “When the fuck are you gonna do something?” he scolded. “That dumb redhead is going to whisk her away from under your nose and you’re just going to stand here, watching!”

Jaime only smiled, an unhappy, disappointed smile though it was. “It’s not my right to intervene if she’s happy with him, Bronn. I don’t approve of him, either, but my opinion doesn’t count. So it’s best to let go and let her live her life without being judgemental about her choice,” he said, not at all feeling as magnanimous as his words. On the contrary, all he wanted was to strangle the life out of Ginger.

Bronn, however, wasn’t taken in by his sagely speech and clicked his tongue impatiently. “Don’t tell me it’s because of your unwavering loyalty to Cersei!” he exclaimed in irritation. “Speaking of her, have you asked her about what happened on Saturday?”

Jaime shook his head. “Not yet. I’m planning to talk to her once I’m back after sorting out Tyrion’s mess.” He sighed, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his forehead wearily. “There’s just too much to deal with at the same time.”

“Hmm,” Bronn agreed. “Smoke?”

“No,” he refused, Brienne’s advice still ringing in his ears.

“It’ll make you feel better,” Bronn urged. “Come on.”

Jaime stayed put.  “I’ve not smoked for almost a month, and I plan to keep going like this. I seriously want to kick the habit.”

He was rewarded by a smile from Bronn. Knowing only too well what it meant, he decided it was best to ignore his friend and keep quiet.

+++++

“Don’t you see it?” Tyrion banged his fist on the table in exasperation. “This has Cersei’s signature all over it. She’s the one who has implicated me in this mess.” He was out on bail, and for the time being at home, with strict instructions that he couldn’t leave the city.

“But why would she do that?” Jaime had to ask, despite gradually losing faith in his cousin day by day.

 _Maybe Brienne was right in her assumption,_ he began thinking, _maybe Cersei did sabotage those scripts... and even send out that email to her._

“Because I happened to threaten her,” his brother confessed, now getting up and waddling around the room restlessly.

When Jaime gave him a blank look, he went on to explain. “I came to know that she tried to intimidate Brienne.”

Jaime scratched his stubble, this new-found detail that Tyrion had given him making him think deeper. “If she could stoop so low as to do this to you, I’m sure she had a hand in what happened the other day--” He stopped, realizing that Brienne was probably right. “I’ve made a huge mistake,” he bit his lip, wanting to hit himself for his blind loyalty and refusal to see reason.

His brother caught his eye. “What mistake?”

“I refused to trust someone,” he lamented. “Someone I should have… someone I doubted because of my stupid devotion to Cersei.”

“I’m guessing it’s Brienne we’re referring to?”

“Yes, but first things first,” Jaime collected his wits. “I know how to get you out of this pit you’ve been pushed into. I’ll speak to dad. He has many contacts, I’m sure he can do something.”

Tyrion laughed mirthlessly. “Dad’ll never help me. He’d rather I rot in jail. That’s how much he loves me.”

“There’s no harm in trying,” Jaime suggested, hoping his brother was wrong. Glancing at the time, he got up. “You take care until then. And remember, I won’t let anything happen to you.” Approaching Tyrion, he shook his brother’s hand, giving it a light squeeze before he let go of it. “I should leave right now if I have to make it to Casterly Rock today.”

“Jaime,” Tyrion called just as he was about step out. “There’s something you need to know about Cersei. In your absence, she’s been sleeping with Lancel.”

Jaime didn’t know how to react to this information. _Should I be angry? Shocked? Should I be heartbroken? Should I feel used? Manipulated?_ Strangely, he felt nothing, for he felt hollow inside. An inexplicable void that was left by… _what exactly?_

“I’m afraid she’s been using you for sex, brother,” Tyrion gave his opinion. “Like she’s been doing with Lancel.”

“I don’t think what she does matters to me anymore,” Jaime murmured, his mind far away from Cersei or Lancel.

_I think it’s stopped mattering long ago… longer than I realized…_

“One last thing, Jaime,” his brother stopped him again. “Brienne’s the best thing that has ever happened to you. Don’t let go of her,” he advised.

“I know,” Jaime agreed. “She’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Tyrion narrowed his brows. “Just a friend? Don’t you think it’s time for you to admit that you’re head over heels in love with her?”

Unsurprised by his brother’s blunt analysis, he thought it best to evade the topic. “I’ll see you later,” he said, hastily bidding him goodbye. “Once I’ve had a word with dad, I’ll get in touch with you… hopefully with some good news,” he added with forced optimism.

His mind full of Tyrion’s words and Brienne’s now-tainted opinion about him, he left King’s Landing immediately, heading straight to Tywin’s mansion and their ancestral estate, Casterly Rock. Jaime was nearly forty, but even today Tywin Lannister made him feel like a teenager. Knowing his father, Jaime was aware that he would be immersed in one of his books.

He looked up when Jaime entered. “What can I do for you, son?”

“Tyrion needs your help,” Jaime came to the point without wasting any time. Deviating from the topic or beating about the bush was something his father abhorred, considering it a colossal waste of time and unworthy of his attention.

“I heard what he did,” said his father in disgust. “He’s turned out to be such a big disgrace to the family that I’ve lost face in society. I’m ashamed to call him my son. If sex was all he wanted, there are prostitutes and call-girls available--”

“I’ve already told you, dad,” Jaime interrupted him, his patience waning. “He’s innocent.”

“How do you know that?” boomed Tywin, his voice echoing through the room. “We both know quite well about his womanizing tendencies.”

 _It’s different now,_ Jaime felt like saying, _My brother’s in love._ “I have strong reasons to believe that he’s been framed,” he said instead.

“Why, and by whom?” his father demanded.

“To that, I have no answer at present, but I’m determined to find out.” _There’s someone I need to have a word with,_ he decided, wanting to speak to Cersei as soon as he could.

Tywin looked him in the eye. “What do you expect of me?”

“He’s your son, and you’re rich and influential,” Jaime urged, hoping his father would see reason. “The city’s best lawyers are your closest acquaintances, some of them your friends, people who would be ready to come to your aid, who would do anything for you. If you could hire one of them to take up Tyrion’s case and prove him innocent, I’d be grateful to you.”

Lannister senior got up from his chair and approached his son. “On one condition,” he said, placing a hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “I’m ready to get Tyrion acquitted. I can even get him another job wherever he wants, but--”

Jaime could sense something ominous coming. “What?”

“You have to do as I say.” Tyrion’s eyes bore through his, making him feel like a little boy. “I’m well past seventy, and once I’m gone, there’s no one to manage Lannister industries. I want you to quit your stupid software job and take over our group of companies.”

 _You want me to give up my dream… my passion,_ he sighed. For his brother’s welfare, it was an easy sacrifice to make. _So be it._

“Done,” Jaime promised him with a heavy heart. “Just give me a year. Let me bring this project to a logical conclusion. And then--”

“There’s one more thing.” His father had not finished yet. “I want you to stop chasing Cersei and settle down.”

“Settle down?” Jaime’s worst fears had come true, for he had anticipated being brainwashed by his father to get married.

“You know what I mean,” Tywin explained, his impatience mounting. “Find a suitable girl and get married. I have a few options for you among those in my circles-daughters of wealthy tycoons of our status, Mace Tyrell’s daughter Margaery--”

“Times have changed, dad, who the hell bothers with arranged marriages these days?” he vented out his frustration. “That apart, I’m not interested in this Margaery.”

“Whether you’re interested or not is of no significance to me,” Tywin cut him off mid-speech. “For forty years of your life, you haven’t picked a girl of your choice, and left to yourself, I don’t think you’re going to do anything even after another forty.”

“But, dad,” he tried to intervene, desperate to make his father see sense.

“Is there anyone apart from Cersei you’d like to marry?” asked Tywin.

For a fleeting second, his mind flew to the wench, the beautiful picture only to be spoilt by visions of Tormund marrying her. “No,” he declined emphatically. “There’s no one else.”

“Then It’s either Margaery, or you can pick one among the Frey girls, though I’d prefer an association with the Tyrells--”

So he had come here to be sold off by his father. “Dad, this is impossible!”

“Then expecting any help from me is also impossible,” Tywin bellowed. A second later, his expression softened and he mellowed down. “Think about it, son. It’s for your own good.”

“Fine,” Jaime agreed reluctantly. His little brother’s welfare was more important to him than anything else. “I’ll do as you say. In a year.”

“In a year,” Tywin repeated, nodding.

All Jaime could think about on his flight back to Braavos was Brienne. He hated to admit it to himself, but the wench seemed to occupy a good chunk of his thoughts these days.

+++++

“Morning,” Jaime greeted Bronn when he entered the next day.

“How did it go?” Bronn asked.

“Dad’s agreed to pull him out of it,” Jaime told him, deliberately leaving out details of his agreement with his father.

With that, there was no further discussion on the topic and he unpacked his laptop and settled down to work. As time rolled by, the initial hiccups in the new software were slowly beginning to show up. As was usually the case with any implementation, those were bound to be there during the first week until the teething troubles were finally ironed out.

Gearing up for the gruelling day that lay ahead of him, Jaime opened his mailbox. Immediately, Brienne’s accusation came to his mind and he quickly pulled up his sent items. No sign of any mail to Brienne Tarth. So if it was Cersei, she had the presence of mind to wipe out her trail. This reminded him to talk to her and he made a quick call to her asking her to meet him at the coffee shop across the street in ten minutes.

“What was so pressing that you had to drag me out of a busy morning schedule?” She looked irritated as she joined him at his table.

“I wanted to discuss Saturday’s incident,” he told her, leaning across the table so that he could watch her carefully. “Did you have any hand in sneaking in the erroneous script?”

“How dare you even ask me this?” she spat, gritting her teeth. “Are you that stupid that you can’t see facts? It was your friend who executed it. Why don’t you ask her instead of wasting my time?”

Instinct told him that she was lying, but instinct was insufficient to prove a point. Tangible evidence was something he lacked, but he could try and get her to confess. “It wasn’t her,” he breathed softly. “I know the way she works, she’s extremely methodical and meticulous. I’m damn fucking sure she couldn’t have made such a stupid mistake--”

“Are you calling me stupid?” Her voice was soft, but her tone was laden with venom and loathing.

“I’m not.” He had to get things straight. “I’m saying that you sneaked in those scripts in Brienne’s folder deliberately.”

“And why would I do that?” He could see her stiffen, her body-language betraying her adamant denial.

“Because you’re jealous of her.” He hit the nail in the head. “You’re afraid that I--”

“--might be in love with her?” she prompted, a questioning look on her face. “Are you, Jaime?”

“What?”

“In love with her?” she asked again.

Ignoring the distraction and unwilling to succumb to her intimidation tactics, he decided to stick to the agenda of their meeting. “You not only tampered with her scripts, but also hacked into my mailbox to send her a stinker,” he confronted her, furious that his worst fears were confirmed. “All this just to get back at me for--” he faltered... _for what?_ He was unsure, himself.

“--falling in love with her?” she supplied again, un-wavered by his continued accusations. “Go on,” she urged. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you have no feelings for her.”

“Why did you do this, Cersei?” he pushed further, once again putting aside her uncomfortable question. “She’s done you no harm. Not only Brienne, you were the one who screwed up Tyrion’s life and career, didn’t you?”

“I’ve done nothing, but that little cunt deserved it,” she gloated, her lips curving in an evil smirk. “All his life, he’s harboured nothing but hatred for me.”

“You’re the one, no doubt,” he concluded, cursing himself for having put his heart and trust in the wrong woman for all his living years. “You’ve hurt the two people that matter the most to me, Cersei, and not only that, you’ve been sleeping around in my absence,” he shouted, inviting curious looks from those at their neighbouring tables. “Lancel of all the people?” he asked, unable to hide the disgust in his voice. “Seriously?”

“You’ve been fucking the Tarth bitch as well,” she counter-argued. “So how does it matter to you if I slept with him once?”

Jaime got up abruptly, spilling his coffee in the process. “Don’t call her a bitch,” he warned, his teeth clenched in rage. “As far as my loyalty is concerned, I’ve been 100% faithful to you despite--”

“--falling for her?” she finished his statement again, leaving him confused and agitated.

“You’ve atleast confessed to your infidelity,” Jaime said sarcastically. “I consider my interrogation mildly successful.”

“That was no crime,” she shot back. “And as for the rest of your accusations, I deny them all. If you’re that keen on proving that I’m a bitch, try finding some proof instead of wasting time trying to force a confession out of me.”

He shook his head, fuming. “I don’t believe you,” he whispered, pushing his chair away violently. “I’m done with you, Cersei.”

Crossing the road and walking back to office had never been this difficult. Distracted, he was almost run over by a car. He rushed at top speed, not wanting to stop until he reached his bay. He had to speak to the wench, he had to apologize to her, he had to tell her that he--

“Are you okay, man?” Jon looked at him, worried, when Jaime collided headlong into him.

“Sorry, I… I’m fine,” he managed, feeling slightly dizzy. “Listen, I’ve got to go, kinda in a hurry--”

Without waiting for a response he rushed to the elevator, and while he waited in the queue for his turn, all he could do was hope that the wench gave him an audience to explain himself.

“Where’s Brienne?” he gasped as soon as he barged into his bay, clutching his chest for breath. “Is she not in yet?”

Bronn had a strange expression on his face. “Don’t you know?”

A knot began to form in Jaime’s chest making it difficult for him to breathe. “Know what?”

“She’s gone, dude,” said Bronn quietly. “She left for King’s Landing yesterday.”

“But…” he stammered. “But she was to leave this weekend, why did she advance her plans?”

“It’s not just the project she’s left,” Bronn went on. “She resigned on Tuesday, and this week is her last in the company. She requested Robert for an early release and on his special approval her notice period has been waived off.”

“She just left?” he asked again, slumping into his chair. “She didn’t even tell me.”

“It happened when you were away,” Bronn told him. “But didn’t she call you?”

"No." Her absence was yet to sink in. “What made her do this? Why this sudden resignation?”

“No idea. All I know is that, she had been contemplating resigning for months now, and I don’t blame her for seizing this opportunity if it’s going to work out in her benefit.”

“Months?” Jaime repeated. “She did have that thought, I know, but I never knew it's been in her mind for that long.”

“No one knew until Tuesday. Tormund told me that morning,” Bronn revealed. “She expressed a desire to move to Tarth, it seems, closer to her father. He’s not been keeping well, off late. She wanted to leave King’s Landing and find a job there.”

“I knew of her father’s illness,” said Jaime, remembering the night she had broken down in his arms. “And if you recall, she also told us about it that day, but I never imagined it would drive her to a hasty decision like this.” Something else was beginning to trouble him. “How does Ginger know all this?”

 _She confided in him but not in me…_ A chilling thought filled his head. _Did she leave because of me… because I refused to show her the faith she deserved?_ He couldn’t forgive himself if that was the case.

Bronn cleared his throat. “There’s one more news for you,” he said gently. “Tormund asked Brienne to marry him… and she accepted. He’s leaving for Westeros next week.”

“When did this happen?” Aware of the fact that she was going out with Tormund, Jaime knew this would come sooner or later, but not this soon.

“Tuesday again.” Bronn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I’m sorry it had to end this way for you--”

Jaime shrugged his hand away. “I’m happy for her.” He convinced himself, wanting to sound cheerful but failing miserably in his effort. “If Ginger makes her happy, then he’s who she should be with.”

“There’s still time, Jaime, they’re not married yet,” Bronn suggested soothingly. “Talk to her, tell her how you feel.”

“I feel nothing for her,” he shouted, getting to his feet. “I don’t care a fuck about who she loves or marries.” He stormed out of there, leaving Bronn staring at him, worried.

The rest of the day went by very quickly, leaving Jaime with no time to brood over what had happened. Then came Friday, and with Friday came the release party and the anticipation of the first real weekend in months. Though in no mood to attend, Jaime was forced to participate because of pressure from the team. Being the project manager and the key in-charge, his absence wouldn’t be taken too well. So he did attend, though spending most of the night seated in a corner with a drink in his hand, while the rest of the team danced the night away.

“Thinking about her?” Bronn sat down beside him, handing him another drink.

“Yeah,” Jaime admitted truthfully, taking the glass from him. _Ever since I returned, she’s all I’ve been thinking about..._

“I guessed right. Who else would leave you in such a melancholic mood?” He peered at Jaime closely. “You love her, don’t you?”

“More than anything else,” Jaime confessed, closing his eyes with a deep sigh, the alcohol giving him the courage to express himself better.

At his words, Bronn sat bolt upright. “Did I hear you right?” he asked, looking astonished. “Do my ears deceive me, or did you just confess that you’re in love with Brienne Tarth?”

Jaime gazed moodily at his drink. “You heard me right, Bronn. I’m in love with Brienne, and I can’t stand the thought of that Ginger-haired cunt touching her.”

Bronn said nothing, staring at him open-mouthed.

Jaime, however, rambled on, now that the dam had burst open. “I’m crazy about her--” he moaned, suddenly hit by the realization that he had been pining for ages “--so crazy that I just can’t stop thinking about her.” He smiled at the recollection of all the lovely memories she had left him with. “I have my eyes open, and she’s all I see. I shut my eyes, she’s all over my dreams. She’s… she’s been torturing me.” He paused, looking up at his friend. “Now if you want me to keep talking about how much I love her, Bronn, I can do that all night--”

“Go after her,” Bronn interrupted. “ _Now_. Don’t sit here and talk to me, just… just do something about it.”

“I can’t do that, my friend,” Jaime said sadly. “I’m no teenager in love for the first time. In the senior position that I am in, I can’t just run off to Westeros without prior notice--”

“Call her then,” suggested his friend. “The first thing you’re doing tomorrow morning is reaching out to her and telling her all that you just told me.”

Jaime smiled to himself, his body flooded with a sudden surge of warmth. Whether it was due to the drink or the fact that he had finally found the courage to face his heart, he didn’t know.

_All I know is that I love the wench… and she’s the one!_

So drunk he was, that he didn’t know when the party got over or how he got home. The last thing he knew was Bronn supporting him to his bed, his head full of visions of the wench as he drifted off to sleep. 

He woke up the next day at noon. His head pounding, he lay on the bed for a while to beat the hangover before finally deciding to call Brienne. Hands shaking in nervousness, he reached for his phone and dialled her number.

_The number you have called is unavailable._

A few hours later, he tried again, only to encounter the same message. There could be many reasons to this: 1) Her battery was probably dead 2) Network issues 3) She might have changed her number. Despite wanting to keep his hopes high, Jaime couldn’t help imagining the worst. What if she had done this to keep away from him? What if she never wanted to see him again?

The rest of the weekend crawled by, and once every few hours Jaime tried her number, hoping he would get through each time. But all he got was the same frustrating message.

+++++

As his ill-luck would have it, Tormund was the first person he ran into when he reached office on Monday morning. “Have you been in touch with Brienne?” he inquired.

“Ofcourse,” Ginger replied with a smug smile. “I’m going to marry her soon. If I don’t speak to her everyday, who would?”

Ignoring the pang of jealousy that burned through him, Jaime kept to the point. “Her number seems to be unreachable.”

“That’s because she’s in Tarth,” Tormund explained. “Since her old number is no longer operational there, she’s had to get herself a new sim card.”

_And she didn’t bother to give me the number..._

“If I were you, I wouldn’t try to contact her, Lannister.” Whether this was an advice or a warning, Jaime couldn’t figure out. “You’re partly responsible for her decision. She did this to get away from you. If you care for her, stay away from her.”

So his guess was right. Brienne did want to avoid him. No wonder, she hadn’t given him her new contact number. There was no point in sending her an email either. Her official email id would now be defunct, and he had been stupid enough to have never sought her personal id.

When Tormund was gone, he sat at his desk, brooding, when the phone rang, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Dad!” he exclaimed in surprise. Till date, his father had never once called him in the last year or so.

“I’ve contacted my lawyers,” his father said. “They’re ready to take up Tyrion’s case. It’s just a matter of time before he can walk free again.”

“Thanks, dad,” he blurted out in relief.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten your end of the deal, son,” Tywin reminded him subtly.

“I remember,” Jaime said. “I’m ready to do as you say, dad.” With Brienne out of the picture and never wanting to see him again, there was no other woman he was really inclined to marry. So who he married made no difference to him anymore.

“Good,” Tywin sounded happy. “I’ve told Mace Tyrell that you’ll be speaking to his daughter soon. Make sure you do that in the next day or two,” he commanded in his usual authoritative tone. “I’ll text you the girl’s number.”

“Fine,” Jaime agreed, resigned to his fate. “I’ll call her.”

“Make this alliance work, Jaime,” Tywin reiterated his wish before disconnecting. “For Tyrion’s good as well as yours. When this girl becomes your wife, half of Tyrell Industries will be yours.”

_Is that all you ever think of, dad? Wealth, power, status…?_

“I’ll marry her if she agrees,” he assured his father.

Once the conversation had thankfully ended, Jaime sat down to begin his day with a heavy heart. How could everything go wrong the same morning?

+++++

Time was supposed to heal the deepest of wounds as per the popular saying, but nothing could mend what Jaime had been going through. More than a week had passed since Tormund’s unpleasant revelation and life was back to routine again, but he was still hurting inside.

True to the word he had given his father, Jaime spoke to Margaery Tyrell. To his chagrin, the girl seemed to be absolutely smitten by him. Once the cycle of regular phone calls and video chats were through, they had decided to meet in person when he was back in Westeros.

“I’m sure our meeting would bring about a fruitful outcome,” a blushing Margaery had told him during their just concluded VC.

_My life and future is sealed for good... with this unknown girl I’ll soon be calling my wife!_

“What’s wrong with you?” Bronn scolded him as soon as he was back from his smoke break. “Why are you punishing yourself by agreeing to marry this woman?”

“I made my father a promise,” he revealed. “For Tyrion’s sake, I’m going to keep my word. Besides, I’ve lost Brienne for good, so how does it matter who I marry?”

“You’ve not lost her yet,” Bronn argued. “Stop getting the idea that she left because of you. Brienne’s not someone who’d base career decisions on matters like these.”

“Regardless, she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me,” said Jaime sadly. “This alliance is just a marriage of families and industries, Bronn, not a union of souls. I’m doing this solely for my brother.”

When Bronn didn’t have an answer to this, Jaime went back to work. A while later, he heard a commotion outside, a woman talking at the top of her voice. He went out to seek the source of the noise which seemed to be Ygritte’s bay. She looked tense, almost teary eyed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, concerned.

“My diamond ring,” she said, sniffing. “I had left it by my purse and gone to the washroom. It was missing when I came back.”

“Why did you leave it out in the open?” he chided her, wondering how one could be this careless.

“I must have taken it off absentmindedly.”

“Don’t worry,” he consoled her. “I’ll run through the security tapes. We’ll find whoever took your ring.”

As soon as he left her bay, Jaime made a request to the security asking them to show him the CCTV footage. He began watching, only to notice that he had rewound the tape too much when he saw the date on the screen. It was the day of the cut-over, and the camera panned on Brienne who got up from her desk. For a while, there was no one around. The bay was completely deserted.

And then, in came Cersei stealthily. Sitting down where Brienne was seated a minute ago, she looked around her to make sure no one was watching before typing away furiously.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gets into action.

“What’re you doing, Brienne?” Sansa gave her a disapproving look. Unable to believe that her friend was leaving the city for good, she had been trying to counsel and convince Brienne to reconsider.

“Dad needs me, I can’t let him live alone when he’s this sick,” Brienne explained, putting on a normal tone to mask the pain inside her. King’s Landing and Westeros International had been where she had begun her career, following up a brilliant start with a gloriously consistent path to success. Now she was giving it all up-a high profile role in one of the country’s top organisations, the lifestyle and comforts of a city she had lived in for most of her adult life, her colleagues, her friends and most of all… _him._ She looked down at the cushion, a dull ache spreading through her chest.

“Can’t your dad move in here, close to you?” Sansa suggested, sipping her coffee.

Just back from Tarth after a week there to attend to her father, Brienne was busy winding up for good. Sansa, like a good friend, had dropped in to help her pack.

“I could ask him to, but he has his consultancy, his clients and his contacts there. It keeps him gainfully occupied.” Though it had occurred to her, Brienne had shot down this idea after giving it careful consideration for days. “All that’s keeping him going is his work. If he moved in here, he’d be deprived of that and end up restless.”

_If I stayed here, I’d be restless..._

“What about your career? What’re you gonna do at Tarth?”

“I’m joining Blue Star Technologies,” she told her friend. “It’s based out of King’s Landing, but they have projects in Tarth. So I can work from their office there.”

The look on her face told Brienne that Sansa didn’t seem to approve of this decision as well. “But they’re not as good as--”

“--Westeros International,” Brienne agreed, nodding. “I know. But at times certain things have to be given up for the sake of others.” _If I have to make a list of the things I’m compromising on it’d fill a page._

“Speaking of compromises,” Sansa went on. “I happened to hear the other news about you.”

“I’m sorry, you had to get it from the others. Before I could tell you in person, Tormund made sure the entire office knew,” Brienne apologized to her, recalling the breakneck pace at which things had progressed.

“Why, Brienne?” was the only other reaction from her friend apart from a disappointed sigh.

“You don’t need a reason for marrying someone,” Brienne justified, though she herself was unconvinced.

“No, but there has to be a reason for marrying the wrong man!”

“Don’t question my decision--”

“Oh, come on,” her friend cried out. “Stop doing this to yourself. How long are you going to keep running away from the truth, pretending there’s nothing going on between you and--”

“I love Jaime,” Brienne blurted out, her voice and her heart both empty as she confessed .

Sansa smiled. “Finally! You’ve accepted it!”

“Yes, I love Jaime,” Brienne repeated, almost on the verge of tears, the acceptance only hurting her more. But who else could she confide in other than her best friend? “I don’t know for how long, but I’ve always loved him, Sansa.”

“Why the hell are you marrying Tormund then?”

“What good is pining for a man who will never love me back?” Brienne cried out. “It’s not going to result in anything but heartbreak.”

“And what good is marrying a man you can never love?” Sansa took her hand in hers. “Look, I know Jaime is committed to Cersei, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s almost as if he wished _you_ were a part of his life… not she.”

“Even if he does have feelings for me, he’s a one-woman man, Sansa,” Brienne lamented, remembering their conversation in that context. “He’s been loyal to her for years. As long as he’s with her, he’s never going to look at anyone else.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you decided to marry Tormund,” Sansa kept harping on the same thing. “I was surprised when you started going out with him, but isn’t marriage a bit too much? And that too at such a short notice?”

“It was an impulsive decision,” Brienne admitted. “We’ve only been dating a while now, and last week, I had this huge argument with Jaime. A day after that, Tormund confessed that he loved me, he asked me to marry him--” she paused to recollect that fateful day, the way Jaime had turned down her accusation of Cersei. “I was emotionally drained. One thing led to another and worried that I might die single, I ended up accepting his proposal--”

“It’s time you stopped suffering from such low self-esteem,” Sansa angrily advised her.

“Look at me!” Brienne suddenly got up from the couch, her self-confidence dipping lower. “Which man would have me?”

“So you decided to marry the first man who proposed to you?” Sansa guessed, staring at her in disbelief. “Come on, Brienne, you’re smart, confident, independent… why do you feel no one would want you?”

Though she’d hate to admit it to Sansa, Brienne had regretted her decision the moment she had said yes to him. “I was in a frame of mind that kept reminding me about my three failed relationships. My brain kept pushing me to accept the only man who wholeheartedly and unconditionally wanted me--”

“And what did your heart say?”

_Jaime._

“Listening to the heart only results in despair and anguish,” countered Brienne, forcing herself to accept her fate.

“Is marrying Tormund going to make you happy?”

To that, she had no answer… rather, no _honest_ answer. Sansa was smart enough to understand. “The look on your face says it all, Brienne.”

“My father would be happy,” Brienne said dully. “He’s always wanted me to find a guy and settle down. Besides, Tormund’s ready to move to Tarth with me. Which guy would do that for an ugly wench like me?”

Her slip of tongue didn’t go unnoticed and Sansa was quick to pick it up. “ _Wench?_ ” she repeated, raising her brows.

Brienne lowered her eyes, smiling. “That’s what _he_ used to call me,” she revealed, subconsciously reminded of Jaime.

“I don’t need to ask who, I suppose,” said Sansa.

“I admit the decision to marry Tormund was a mistake,” Brienne finally voiced it aloud. “But I can’t do anything now. How could I refuse him when he loves me unconditionally? There’s a saying-it’s better to settle for the one who loves you than the one you love.”

“It’s better to be single than settle for someone you _don’t_ love,” Sansa continued to disagree with her. “Think about it, Brienne. A loveless relationship would only end up leaving all the three of you unhappy.”

“I gave Tormund my word, Sansa, I can’t go back on it.”

“You’re doing him no good by entering into this half-hearted marriage. To be honest, it’s not fair to Tormund as well. Think about it… and talk to Jaime once, will you?”

Brienne immediately dismissed her suggestion. “Talking to him will only worsen things. Had he felt the same about me, he wouldn’t have been happy when I told him I was dating Tormund,” she said, remembering the time Jaime had dashed all her hopes to pieces with just that one sentence. “All he’s ever done in our time together is taunt and mock me. He stood by Cersei when she was at fault. The woman tried to get me into trouble and he didn’t even bother hearing me out. After all this, do you still expect me to approach him?”

Sansa shook her head in exasperation. “If only the two of you could put in some effort in communicating more effectively!” she exclaimed. “He’s such an idiot, and so are you. I wish I could knock some sense into both of you.”

Not wanting to continue talking about Jaime, Brienne decided it was time to divert the topic. “How’s Tyrion doing?”

It was Sansa’s turn to look forlorn. “His father’s hired the city’s best lawyer to defend him, so the chances of him getting out of it are high, but the social stigma still remains.”

Brienne studied her carefully. “Do you believe in his innocence?”

“Ofcourse I do,” came her firm reply. “I trust him and I believe in him.”

“Are you in love with him?” Brienne recognized only too well the now-familiar signs in her friend.

“Maybe.” Sansa looked confused. “But he hasn’t said anything yet. And after all that has happened, I doubt he will.”

Brienne gave her a reassuring smile. “Have faith,” she consoled the girl. “Things’ll get better for the two of you.”

“And I hope things work out for you as well.” Sansa returned the smile. “Talk to Jaime before you do something stupid.”

 

*****

 

“Will this suffice or do you need any further evidence?” Jaime’s voice was cold and calm when he bent over his cousin, interrogating her as she viewed herself on the screen. His initial anger on watching the footage had dissipated, filling him with nothing but revulsion for the woman he had loved for ages.

Tearing her eyes off the screen, Cersei looked up at him, her eyes shining. “I did it for you, Jaime,” she began to plead with him. “I couldn’t bear the sight of that bitch getting close to you--”

“DON’T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT!” he shouted in her ear, making her shudder. He straightened, moving away from her, wanting nothing more than to put as much distance between them as possible.

One look at his enraged face and her pitiable expression was gone, replaced by her usual sarcastic smirk. “Ah, the anger,” she remarked, the venomous loathing she bore for Brienne back in her voice. “I had forgotten that you’re in love with her.”

“Yes I am,” Jaime admitted, his heart a ton lighter with the confession. “I thought I loved you, Cersei, that was my biggest mistake. I'll always regret the day I ended up hurting her for your sake.” How much he hated himself now for blindly defending his cousin! “I’ve been such an idiot. I took your side not knowing what you are capable of. I broke the heart of the woman I love.”

Cersei got up. As she approached him, her expression softened once again. “I made a mistake, Jaime, I’m sorry. Why don’t we forget this happened and start afresh?” she implored, flinging her arms around his neck and drawing closer to him.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Breaking free of her grasp, he took a step backward. “I have one more question for you,” he asked, piercing her with a gaze so intense that she averted her eyes, unable to stand the heat of his stare. “Why did you frame Tyrion?”

“I told you I had nothing to do with it.” But this time too, her body language betrayed her.

“Deny all you want, Cersei,” he said, maintaining his composure. “I’m sure if I go searching, I’ll find evidence for that too--”

“It was Petyr Baelish!” she hurriedly exclaimed before he could say anything else.

“Why would he bother harming Tyrion?” Jaime was suspicious, knowing fully well that she was concealing part of the truth. “What was in it for him?”

“He has a thing for Sansa Stark,” revealed Cersei. “And the only obstacle between him and the girl was your brother.”

“How do you happen to know so much if it was purely his doing?” her probed further, unwilling to let go until she crumbled. No one could hurt his little brother and get away with it.

When she was silent, he understood. “You conspired with him, didn’t you? You couldn’t stand Tyrion being happy for a change. You’ve hated him since the day he was born, and now when he’s finally found the love of his life, you want to break--”

“Yes, it was me,” she cried out, her wall of false confidence crashing as she succumbed to his accusations. “I can’t stand that little imp. How dare he blackmail me?”

“What did he do wrong? He merely asked you to stay away from Brienne, said he’d make sure I knew about you and Lancel.”

Cersei sank into the nearest chair. “I should have punished Tyrion my way rather than listen to that Baelish,” she lamented, rubbing her forehead in frustration.

“You decided to tie up with him for your own mutual convenience. He agreed to do your dirty work in exchange for--” Jaime paused, searching for a valid reason “--what exactly?”

“He wanted nothing in return.”

“Is it? Now that’s surprising.”

“He didn’t,’ she insisted. “I knew you’d believe Tyrion and not me, I told Baelish so, but he convinced me into taking the risk.”

It was only now that Jaime fully understood what had transpired between them. “For the first time in your life you’ve been stupid, Cersei. He took you for a ride and you actually believed him.”

When she threw him a blank look, he explained. “He’ll soon start blackmailing you. I can bet my hand that he has some sort of evidence of his deal with you. He’s going to threaten you with it to extort money from you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t,” said Jaime truthfully. “Given his past history, I just know that the man is capable of it. Dad’s got the best lawyer defending Tyrion. As soon as the case progresses and the heat turns on Baelish, he’s going to come out with the evidence and point fingers at you.”

Cersei had the look of a defeated woman as his words sank in.

“Of the two people I love, you’ve ruined the life of one and broken the heart of the other.” Nevertheless, he decided to give her one last chance to see reason. “I have a suggestion to make things a bit easier for you.” When she leaned forward, keen to listen, he went on. “You have to confess about your involvement to Robert--”

“I’m not an idiot to do that,” she lashed out.

“Hear me out, first,” he insisted. “Once you confess, I’ll dig out the evidence Baelish holds against you. Since the execution of the plan has been his, he will bear the full brunt of the law.”

“What happens to me?” Cersei asked in a low voice.

“I'm sure you won't go scot free, but Robert can decide what to do with you.” Jaime sat down beside her, keen to convince her.  “If you don’t heed my word, you’re eventually going to face a much more severe punishment, or worse still extortion and blackmail whenever Baelish chooses to turn on you.”

Hearing that, his cousin hung her head in silence. Whether it was due to remorse, he didn’t know, and he didn’t care anymore.

“Fine,” she relented. “I’ll do as you say.”

Jaime’s job here was done. “Goodbye, Cersei,” he said, getting up. “And thank you,” he added, on an afterthought. “For opening my eyes and showing me where my heart truly lies. Had it not been for your misdeeds, I’d still have stuck with you, never realizing that I loved someone else.”

+++++

“I’m going to King’s Landing,” he announced to Bronn when he had finished relating the entire tale to him. “I have to try and expose Baelish.”

Bronn still looked doubtful. “You think your crazy plan will succeed?”

“I have to try.”

“And what about Brienne?” Bronn slowly broached the subject. “Aren’t you going to tell her how you feel?”

“What good is it now?” Jaime sighed. “She’s left for Tarth, she doesn’t want to see me again--”

“She loves you, dude.”

“She wouldn’t be marrying Ginger if she did.”

“That’s because you were with Cersei,” Bronn argued. “You’ve both been idiots. Without wasting more time, tell her you’re free from Cersei’s clutches. She deserves to know. _You_ deserve a chance to be together.”

“I have to sort out Tyrion first.” Jaime decided to set aside his love life for the time being.

Handing over the project to Jon for the time being, he took the first flight to Westeros the next morning, directly dropping into the office from the airport. As soon as he reached, he went straight to Robert.

“I have proof that Cersei tried to put down Brienne,” Jaime explained, showing his boss the Iron Bank footage. “And she has confessed to conspiring with Petyr Baelish to frame Tyrion. If you could question him--”

Robert shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “We don’t have proof,” he said. “Just her word.”

“We can find it.” Jaime was sure that a crooked man like Baelish would have some means of blackmail, something he could fall back on in case his deal with Cersei turned sour. “I have a feeling he’s hiding something, some video or some sort of a recording--” He looked at Robert hopefully, a plan striking him. “If you could authorize a search of his laptop--”

“I can’t do that!” Robert looked at him incredulously. “What if Cersei’s lying to defend herself? What if Baelish turns out innocent? I’d cut a sorry figure in that case.”

Jaime gave his concern a quick thought. “You could tell him that it’s a routine housekeeping activity to install a security patch. We could arrange it for the entire team so that it doesn’t raise any suspicion. Ask them all to surrender their laptops to admin for an hour.”

Robert seemed to consider his plan. “What if the search reveals nothing and he comes clean?”

Jaime shrugged. “No damage done,” he said. “Return his machine along with the others. He won’t have a clue as to what really happened behind the scenes.”

“And what if he shows resistance?”

“That would be the first sign of his guilt.” Jaime grinned. “It would mean we’re on the right track. He’d have no choice but to submit to a check.”

“Fine.” To his great relief, Robert finally agreed. “I’ll issue the order right away.”

The next one hour was the most excruciatingly painful wait Jaime had ever endured. But the plan was going exactly the way he wanted it to. He kept a low profile, staying out of sight but keeping a watch from afar when the admin guys swooped down upon the team. While none of the others had a problem with this, Baelish was the only one with all the questions.

“I’m in the middle of an audit report,” he complained, clearly wanting to ward them off. “Can’t I finish it before handing it over to you?”

The admin guy shook his head. “Boss’s orders,” he said. “It’s an emergency to safeguard all machines against security vulnerabilities. No exceptions. Now if you could give me your laptop, please.” He held out his hand. “We’re just going to install an update, nothing else,” he assured.

Once the machines were taken to the admin office, it was time to get into action. Jaime watched like a hawk when Baelish’s machine was being scanned, particularly on the lookout for suspicious video files. While he found no odd videos, he stumbled upon an audio clipping, cleverly hidden in the middle of a music folder. On close observation, he found that it had a different filename extension and not the usual mp3 like all the other music files.

“Play that,” he instructed the man running the scan.

Jaime’s suspicions were confirmed as soon as he began hearing the recording. It was a telephonic conversation between Cersei and Baelish.

_“I can get rid of Tyrion Lannister for you.”_

_“What’s in it for you, Mr. Baelish?”_

_“I want Sansa. I’d like nothing more than to get rid of Tyrion… particularly after the way he told me off the last time.”_

_“I’m not sure it’ll have the effect I want, Mr. Baelish. Jaime trusts Tyrion more than me, he’ll believe his brother over anyone else. Even me.”_

_“Still worth a try, Ms. Lannister.”_

_“Fine, do what you must. Just keep me out of it.”_

_“You can trust me on that, ma’am. Apart from Sansa Stark, what’re his weaknesses?”_

_“Alcohol and women.”_

_“Women? Now that’s an easy weakness to exploit. Consider the job done, Ms. Lannister.”_

With that the clip ended, but Jaime had heard enough. “Thanks, guys,” he told the admin team. “This is more than good enough. Now, let’s leave this file intact. Before you return the machines to their respective owners, could I get a copy of this in my pen-drive?”

The rest of his plan went off in a breeze. The moment Robert heard the evidence, he summoned Baelish for questioning. While the man vehemently denied the accusation at first, he came clean when confronted with solid proof.

“That went well thanks to you, Jaime,” Robert said, relieved, once Baelish was taken away for further questioning and interrogation. “I’ll immediately speak to the concerned authorities and make sure the case against Tyrion is withdrawn. I want him back as soon as possible. I also need to summon Shae for questioning and further action.”

Jaime heaved a sigh of relief. “What are you going to do with Cersei?”

Robert frowned. “She’s not our employee, so all I can do is put in a word to the Iron Bank CEO. After that, it’s his call and he can choose to punish her in whatever way he deems fit.”

Jaime nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

The moment he left Robert’s cabin, he scanned the floor, searching desperately for the one other person he wanted to speak to. He had so much to ask her.

“Sansa,” he called out as soon as he spotted her at a distance. “Care for a coffee?”

“She left last night,” Sansa informed him in between sips of coffee. “She’s gone there for good, Jaime.”

“When’s the wedding?” he inquired, hoping he wasn’t too late. “Or is she already married--”

“No,” said Sansa. “It’s next month.” Leaning towards him, she lowered her voice. “Just go after her, will you? She loves you and you love her, I don’t know what’s stopping you--”

“Nothing’s going to stop me anymore.” Jaime knew immediately what he had to do. “Thanks, Sansa, for the pep talk and the much needed reassurance.”

“All the best.” Sansa shook his hand when they got up. “Go get her, and give us some good news soon.”

The earliest flight to Tarth was tomorrow evening. Jaime spent the night sleepless, the butterflies in his stomach not letting him relax in peace. Staring at the ceiling, he remembered that he had one last thing to do before he went after Brienne.

When morning came, the first call he made was to Margaery Tyrell, requesting to meet her immediately.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, feeling guilty that he had complicated matters by agreeing to the alliance. “I can’t marry you because I’m in love with someone else. I hope you’ll forgive me if I’ve broken your heart.”

The girl seemed to take it in her stride. “It’s quite alright,” she said gracefully. “I understand.”

A few more words of pleasantries later, they parted company amicably, promising to be friends.

When it was finally evening, he got ready in a daze and left for the airport, his mind only focussing on one thought. _Brienne._

+++++

Jaime stood outside her door, his finger on her doorbell. Fighting down the jittery feeling that overpowered him, he pushed the button after a moment’s hesitation, trying to ignore his uncomfortably sweaty palms.

When the door swung open, he found himself staring into the blue eyes he so sorely missed all these days. _Gods, I love you,_ he ached to tell her, to grab her waist and kiss her like there was no tomorrow, but he owed her an explanation and an apology first.

“Jaime,” she gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

“Can I come in?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t turn him away.

After staring at him blankly for a while, she stepped aside to let him in. “What--” she began.

“I have to talk to you, wench,” he breathed before she could say anything, unable to hold himself back any longer. “There’s so much I have to tell you--”

To his horror, the look on her face was now stone-cold. “Why are you here, Jaime?” She seemed far from pleased to see him.

“To apologize to you,” he said, seeking her eyes. “For that day, for every day that I’ve hurt you or insulted you, though all of it was unintentional. My biggest mistake was my refusal to believe you. You were right that day, it was Cersei all the way.”

“It’s fine,” she waved away his apology, tearing her gaze away from his. “I hold no grudges against you, but we can’t be that sort of friends anymore. We’re nothing more than two people who’ve once worked together.”

“Stop this pretence, wench!” Jaime’s voice rang out in the silence of the building. “I think we both know quite well what there was between us.”

“I don’t want to discuss the past,” she said evasively. “I’m marrying Tormund now and I can’t...”

“I love you, Brienne,” he said, taking a step further to reduce the distance between them. “And I know you love me--”

“I don’t love you,” she denied vehemently.

Undeterred by her rejection, he moved even closer. “I think we’re both beyond the point of denial now, wench.”

Brienne took a step backward. “You should leave.” Her eyes darted towards the door which was wide open. “Tormund will be here soon.”

“Tormund’s coming here now?” A chilling thought crossed his mind. _Is she living with him?_

“Yes.”

“To stay the night with you?” He had to know though he dreaded the answer.

“How does it matter to you?.” Her reply was as curt as it could be. “You never bothered when I dated him in Braavos.”

“I was an idiot then.” Jaime felt like slapping himself for having done nothing when it mattered the most.

To that, she didn’t react for she was distracted. “There he is,” she said a second later, looking over Jaime’s shoulder. “I can see him coming just across--”

“Can he see us now?”

“Yes, and he’s not going to be happy when he finds you here with me so late in the night, Jaime--”

And then, Jaime did something extremely drastic, impulsive and desperate-all at the same time. Knowing that Ginger was watching, he pulled Brienne into his arms and kissed her, his lips devouring hers hungrily as his hands wandered all over her back and her waist. He was so lost in her that he didn't even realize that something was amiss.

It was only after a while that it struck him. She had not kissed him back.

“What the fuck’s going on, Lannister?” came Tormund’s angry voice from behind him. “Let go of her.”

Shocked by her lack of response, Jaime released her. The wench was blushing profusely, her lips swollen from the kiss.

“Care to explain why you did that?” Ginger asked him, his voice full of fury and the rest of his face as red as his beard.

“Because I love her and she’s mine,” said Jaime defiantly, taking Brienne’s hand in his. He looked Tormund in the eye, daring him to object.

“Is this true, Brienne?” Tormund demanded, glaring at her now.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, choosing to look at the ground instead of either of the men.

Tormund, however, looked unconvinced. “What about you?” he asked her. “Do you love him?”

Much to Jaime’s disappointment, Brienne was quiet.

“I didn’t see you push him away when he kissed you,” Tormund went on, his tone accusatory. “And you’re still holding on to his hand now.”

“I…” Brienne started, immediately pulling her hand away from Jaime’s.

For a while no one spoke. Then Tormund looked at both of them alternately. “I think, I’ve got my answer, Brienne,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. Turning to Jaime, he growled. “If at all you two end up together, make sure she’s happy, Lannister,” he threatened. “Another time you insult her, you’ll have me to answer to.”

“I know how to make her happy, Ginger,” Jaime snapped back. “I don’t need love advice from you!”

Ignoring him, Tormund gave Brienne a short nod. “Goodbye, Brienne,” he grunted as he made his way out, shutting the door behind him. “And, good luck.”

Once Ginger was gone, Jaime once again turned to her, worried about her reaction to his kiss. “Brienne, I can explain --”

“Jaime, please leave,” she requested, her tone softly firm, but with an unmistakable hint of agitation.

Jaime couldn’t digest her cold response. “Don’t tell me you’ve developed feelings for Ginger--”

“Forget Tormund,” she cried out. “It’s not about him. It was _never_ about him. You can’t just barge in whenever you want and kiss me in front of my fiance thinking you can win me over just like that!”

“I kissed you because I love you, wench,” he said quietly. “Is there nothing between us?” he asked, desperate to know where he stood. “Don’t you have any feelings at all for me?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, looking confused.

“Don’t you wish to find out?” he urged, reaching for her hand again. “We can figure it out together, wench, it’s going to be a beautiful journey,” he said dreamily.

She pulled away, shaking her hand free. “I just want to be alone now. I need neither you nor Tormund anymore. I’ve decided that I’m the happiest when I am by myself.”

Jaime felt as if he was punched in the stomach. “I suppose I should leave then,” he said, unable to believe the unpleasant turn of things.

“You should,” she agreed. “Goodbye, Jaime.”

“If at all you change your mind about me, I’m in the building across the street,” he informed, hoping she’d take note. “Tenth floor, apartment 101.”

With a determined look on her face, she shook her head, declining his offer. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing you again, Jaime. So it is goodbye. Go back to King’s Landing and carry on with your life. Good luck.”

“Bye, Brienne,” he forced himself to say, his heart heavier than a ton. “Have a good life. Since you can’t stand my presence anymore, it’s best I leave you to yourself. I just want you to be happy, wench.”

+++++

It was raining heavily when Jaime made his way across the street to his apartment, the walk by far being the longest and the most depressing one in his life. By the time he was indoors, he was soaked to the bone, his clothes dripping wet.

“It’s over,” he told Bronn when he answered his phone which had been ringing for a while.

“Didn’t you talk to her?”

“I did, but she doesn’t want to see me again.” The awful feeling was yet to fully sink in.

A few seconds of silence passed. “I’m sorry, Jaime,” came the apologetic voice on the other side.

“I’ll be fine, Bronn,” he muttered, putting his phone away.

His mind out of order and his brain switched off, he decided to eat something for want of anything better to do. Comfort food always helped calm a disturbed mind. Picking up his phone, he ordered himself a pizza. The next best thing to pizza being a bath before bed, he stripped, deciding to seek solace in a warm shower.

As the jet of the water hit his chest, he was overcome by a mix of despair and the urge to do better, to meet her again tomorrow and convince her. While her words denied her affection for him, her eyes conveyed just the opposite. If time was what she needed, that’s what he would give her. He would wait for her his whole life if need be.

Logic, on the other hand, told him to leave her alone. Strong, independent women like Brienne usually stuck to their opinions, stubborn though they may seem to be at times. _I’ll think about what to do next tomorrow,_ he decided, wiping himself dry. Stepping out of the shower, he discarded the towel and pulled on his shorts. Just as he was about to slip into his tee, the doorbell rang.

Tossing the t-shirt away on the bed, he hurried to answer the door, expecting the pizza delivery guy.

Instead, he found himself staring at the wench. She stood there, soaking wet in her thin and now see-through white tee and shorts that did more than justice to her never ending legs. The sight of her, wet and dishevelled set off a tingling sensation at the base of his spine. He could see a faint blush blossoming on her cheeks. That, coupled with the water dripping down her hair made her all the more irresistible. She lowered her lashes when she caught him staring unabashedly at her.

“Jaime, I--” she began hesitantly.

“Yes, Brienne?”

“From the moment you walked away, I've been trying my best to get you out of my mind,” she said softly, blinking a couple of times as she spoke. The water droplets on her lashes trickled down her cheeks before landing on her lips, filling him with an uncontrollable desire to get rid of them with his mouth.

“And…?” he asked, his voice unusually hoarse. He waited with bated breath for her to speak, not wanting to get his hopes too high too soon.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Isn't it obvious that I failed?” she said, her voice equally hoarse. “For some reason, I just can’t get over you. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t, because you’re all I can think about.” The colour on her cheeks deepened as she spoke. “Tell me, Jaime, what do I do now?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, almost at the end. Bear with me for just one more chapter, which will be a much shorter one as compared to the usual :)  
> EDIT (31/5/2019) : For anyone who's still interested in reading this, I've been obsessed with canon for the past month or so, hence the delay. But the final chapter should be up in about a week or so :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating changed to E for the last chapter ;)

“For starters, why don’t you come in? You must be freezing.” Jaime checked her out, his gaze going from surprised to appreciative to something far more than that - a heated look of want and longing that had Brienne blushing uncontrollably and her palms sweaty, despite the fact that she was drenched to the bone and shivering. “Or do you plan to stand at my doorstep all night, admiring me from a distance?”

It was only after he’d pointed out that she realized that she’d had been staring at him, and blatantly, that too, unabashed with no inhibitions restricting her this time. Any other time she’d have cringed using the analogy, but he was a _dish_ , and that too an utterly delicious one! The sight of him when he’d opened the door had made her go weak in the knees, leaving her stuttering and stammering like a schoolgirl nursing a crush. He stood there, looking like a prince straight out of her fantasies, his shirtless chest as well toned as ever with just the right smattering of hair decorating it, something that always got her fingers tingling as she itched to mess around with it. His tanned skin glowing from a recent bath and his hair mussed up, he was oh-so-absolutely-irresistible.

“I mean, I don’t mind, I can see that you like what you’re looking at,” he teased, his sexy voice buzzing through her addled brain again, forcing her to hear him out instead of mindlessly feasting her eyes on his gorgeous frame, “but won’t you rather come in and talk?”

Her face was on fire and her knees felt like jelly. She didn’t know how to react, her brain temporarily out of order. “I don’t think I should--” she hesitated, her carefully gathered courage going down the drain within a few seconds of seeing him and blurting out her impulsive confession.

“Come in, Brienne,” he insisted, his tone soft and serious as he stepped aside to make way for her. She followed him, but stood where she was when he shut the door, mute as a dummy. “Well,” he drawled, watching her, his arms crossed against his chest, “you were saying something? Something about not being able to get over me?” he prompted, his eyes alight with the fire she’d never seen in them before as he reminded her of her embarrassing confession a few seconds ago.

“I came to tell you that I--” she stuttered again, her mind once more wiped blank and her tongue useless dead weight in her mouth, the words she’d rehearsed in her mind on the way leaving her in the lurch when it mattered the most.

“That you--” he repeated questioningly, his eyes searching hers for answers and more, “--that you--what?”

Burning under the heat of his gaze, she licked her lips nervously, her eyes darting around the room for an escape route from the situation she’d willingly walked into, but the sudden realization that he’d inched closer to her, the distance between them barely a foot, wasn’t helping, getting her even more flustered than she already was.

“I--” she started again, only to get stuck on the same word, but this time her lack of words couldn’t be attributed to her alone, for Jaime’s mouth was on hers. His chest pushing into hers, his hand went around her waist, gripping her, squeezing her, creeping under her shirt to tickle and torture her bare skin. He kissed her like she’d never been kissed before, his tongue delving into her mouth, exploring every corner of her, claiming her like no man ever had. He tasted like mint, divine and irresistible, and she felt softer, more like a woman than she’d ever felt before, her lips singing the same tune as his as they moved together as one.

“Jaime--” she said, gently breaking the kiss and pushing him away, her head spinning with hundred questions. Unlike her previous trysts with romance, she had no intention of turning this into a one-night stand, not ready for yet another heartbreak. Her exes had left her with little to no faith in love. While she had deep attraction for them, what she felt for Jaime was far more than that. Even Renly, she realized much later, was nothing beyond a hugely inflated crush. But Jaime was different. She’d fallen in love with him and fallen hard. He had, no doubt, professed his love for her in front of Tormund, but this was a man who’d been in love with one woman for years. She had to know for sure if he really meant it and that it wasn’t just in a fit of passion that he’d said all that he had before committing herself to him.

At once he moved away, putting a respectable distance between them, his eyes finding hers again, a mix of hurt, doubt and mild apprehension in them. “Sorry--” he stammered, running his fingers through his hair, “I thought--” he shook his head “I’m sorry if I forced myself on you, I thought you--”

They were interrupted by the doorbell. “Must be the pizza,” he guessed, throwing on a t-shirt that was lying on the bed and answering the door. Brienne lingered out of sight until Jaime had finished the transaction and dispensed off their visitor.

“Hmm, where were we?” Stowing the pizza boxes on the table, he turned to her again. “When you came here, I figured you might feel the same about me, that you--”

“I love you,” she told him, fidgeting with her fingernails nervously, not wanting to beat about the bush anymore.

But Jaime didn’t appear to have registered her words, for he kept going on and on. “I kissed you assuming you wanted it too, that you--”

“Jaime, I love you,” she said again, hoping to grab his attention.

But he was barely listening. “I never meant to push you into anything you aren’t comfortable with--”

“Oh, for gods sake!” Brienne exclaimed in exasperation, deciding to do the only thing that would stop him. Grabbing a handful of his shirt, she dragged him into her and kissed him hard, muffling the nonsense he had been babbling for quite some time. He took a moment to come to terms with her sudden move, but once he had, he was unstoppable, his lips pushing into hers, aggression replacing the initial tenderness he’d shown her as he sucked her tongue and nibbled her lips, drinking her in, leaving her breathless and weak and yearning for more. And give her more, he did, his hips pushing into hers, his hard erection reminding her of its presence, waiting to burst through his shorts. Her fingers roamed his chest, feeling his hard muscles through the thin shirt. He twitched as she moved further down, allowing her hand to stray to his groin, his tongue pushing harder into her mouth when she groped the bulge in his shorts. His need for her was evident in his touch, his kiss and every inch of his body that came into contact with hers.

“Wow,” he gasped, when they broke apart, “that was one hell of a way to non-verbally convey your point.”

“Well, I did try to tell you,” she mumbled, blushing once the euphoria of her impulsive action died down, shyness taking over the sudden rush of emotions, “you didn’t let me speak.”

“Tell me what?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“That I love you,” she said softly.

“And so do I, Brienne,” he replied, the tenderness back in his eyes as he gathered her in his arms, “then why the doubt in your mind?”

“We’re as misfit a pair as one can ever be,” she voiced her insecurity, “I’m no beauty while you’re--” she paused, at a loss for a suitable word to describe his achingly handsome looks.

“How does it matter when we love each other?”

“Don’t you be so dismissive,” she scolded him, hurt as she recollected the countless insults he’d so freely showered on her, “you’ve never missed an opportunity to mock and taunt me.”

“Those days are long gone,” he promised her, his tone guilt-ridden as he pulled her closer.

“Cersei--”

“--was my past,” he assured her, pushing a lock of damp hair off her forehead. “After what she did, I don’t think I’ll even talk to her again.”

“I heard about your engagement,” Brienne went on, questions still plaguing her, “and that your father wishes for you to marry that Tyrell girl--”

“It’s you I love, wench,” he said simply, “not her. That engagement has been broken. Long back.”

“You don’t understand, I’m no billionaire’s daughter,” she cried out, “I’m a simple person. Our social status is unlike yours and I’m afraid your father might not approve--”

“Oh, fuck society! And fuck everyone who isn’t us!” His strong tone took her by surprise. “Nothing else matters, wench,” he tried to convince her, much more softly this time, “only us. And don’t worry about my father, he’ll be happy as long as I settle down.”

When she could think of no argument to his vehement declaration, he pushed her against the door, pressing his mouth to her throat in an open mouthed kiss. “I don’t think you should be going home this late, Brienne,” he said, his voice a deep, seductive growl that turned her on, triggering the familiar tingling sensation at the base of her spine.

Emboldened, she wound her arms around his neck. “I don’t plan to leave anytime soon,” she purred, his steady stream of kisses making her go helplessly weak in the knees.

“Good.” His hand slid down to her chest. “Now why don’t we get you out of your dripping clothes. You’ll catch a cold if you wear this any longer.”

“I have nothing else to wear,” she deliberately said, just to gauge his response, her arousal leaving her hot and wet and impatient as she found herself picturing what was to come.

“Oh you don’t need any clothes for what we’re about to do,” he rasped, pulling down her sleeve and covering her shoulder with little nips and bites.

“Fuck!” she swore softly when his other hand grabbed her breast over the thin, wet fabric. “Just--” she struggled to speak, distracted by his mouth that uncovered and discovered newer patches of bare skin as it travelled along her neck and down to her chest, “just take my shirt off, will you?” she urged, her impatience to get intimate with him now beyond her control.

Jaime drew away, grinning mischievously. “At your service, ma’am.” She raised her hands and he took the annoying shirt off her, leaving her wet and only in her bra and shorts. He observed her for a moment, his eyes darkening in lust as they wandered over her cleavage, her midriff and then settling down at her long legs. “Gods, you’re beautiful!” he gushed hoarsely, ogling her like no man ever had.

“Stop kidding me,” she said in indignation, irked by his impassioned exaggeration, “I’ve been mocked all my life, you don’t have to--”

“There’s water all over your body,” he said, completely ignoring what she’d just told him, “just like it was the day I held you in that pool.” His voice was thick with desire at that memory which she remembered only too vividly.

“Just give me a towel and I’ll--”

“There’s no need for that.” He pressed his mouth to her chest, targeting the rogue droplets one by one, sucking them off her breasts. “See, I can do a better job,” he breathed into her, yanking down her bra strap and unhooking it as he continued sucking and licking her all over.

“You just conveniently ignored all that I said.” She forced herself to focus, the doubt still troubling her as she refused to be distracted by what he was doing to her.

“If I didn’t find you attractive, would I be kissing you like this?” Her bra dropped to the floor, replaced by his mouth on one breast and his hand cupping the other. “Would I want to fuck you so hard that you’d remember it all your life?” While his mouth worked wonders on her breast, his prickly stubble scratched and burned through her soft skin, leaving angry red patches wherever he nuzzled her.

She grabbed the doorknob to her left in desperation, for want of something to hold on to when he pulled down her shorts without warning. “Stop being this slow, Jaime, and be quick about it,” she whimpered, accidentally turning the door open when he slipped a hand between her legs, finding her opening. The next second, he was inside her, inserting first a finger and then two and then furiously fucking her with well timed strokes, his engorged cock pressing into her thighs, aching to find its way inside her. “I never knew you could be so efficient with your hand,” she gasped, slamming the door shut with her ass and clutching his shirt for support. His skilful fingers moved faster and so did her hips, and she shuddered and jerked in his arms as he continued rubbing, pinching and squeezing her breasts, the force he applied on her, deliciously hurtful. “How many women have you been with?”

He lifted his head off her chest to meet her eyes. “I told you, you’re my second,” he said, then returned to sucking her nipple. He increased the pressure, deepening his strokes, and as she neared her climax, she felt dizzy enough to see stars, blown away by the experience as she came in his hand. “And you’ll be my last.” Fixing her with a scorching look, he scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bed. “There will be no one else,” he declared, kissing her as he sat her on the bed, “only you, Brienne.” Continuing to pierce her with his red-hot gaze, he began peeling off his shirt, once again revealing his gorgeous chest to her.

His proclamation a huge turn on for her, she helped him off his shorts, her eyes growing wide at the first glimpse of the sight that awaited her. He pushed her roughly on the bed and was about to climb on top of her when he froze, slapping his forehead in frustration, cursing loudly. “Fuck! I can’t do this!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Brienne, eyeing his disappointed face in apprehension, worried that he might have begun to get the feeling that she wasn’t good enough for him.

“I don’t have any condoms with me,” he said sheepishly, his face red with embarrassment. “I’m such an idiot--”

She pulled him into an embrace, smiling. “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

“The pill?” He gave her a sharp look, his eyes a mix of anger and jealousy. “Why? Did you and--”

“Ofcourse not!” It was her turn to be angry now. “I haven’t slept with anyone since I first met you.”

“Then why?”

She flushed. “Before you gatecrashed into my life again a few hours back, I was to be married, the ceremony the day after tomorrow, so I thought it better to--”

The frown on his handsome face dissolved, giving way to a charming grin. “Poor Tormund, I almost pity him.”

“Really? Do you?”

“Not in the least.”

Back to business, he captured her lips again, his erection hard and ready and poised at her entrance, waiting to pleasure her. He held her thighs in a vice-like grip, so firmly that it nearly hurt her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer. She bit back a moan when he entered her. The moan became a scream when his hand was back between her legs, rubbing her clit, leaving her breathless and reeling under his touch. He thrust forward with just the right force, and then pulled back, and he was back in again before she could realize it.

He went on, back and forth, slow at first, and then faster, gentle initially, and then harder. She bit his shoulder hard, while he kept plunging into her, increasing his pace with every move, setting a rhythm, building it up to a crescendo until an mind-blowing orgasm ripped through her, leaving her shaking violently under him. He wasn’t far behind, his final strokes marking his end, a loud feral roar punctuating his climax, followed by a soft sigh and her name on his lips as he sank into her arms, the look on his face one of blissful satisfaction.

“That was--” He was panting and drenched in sweat, unable to speak any further.

“--the best sex I’ve ever had,” she declared, pulling him in for a kiss.

“This is a sign,” he said, an impish grin lighting up his face, “that we’re meant to be together.”

“I could get used to this,” she said dreamily, hoping this wasn’t another of her lovely fantasies.

“I want to get used to you,” he replied with a soft peck on her cheek, “I think I’m already beginning to, wench, I don’t think I can spend another day without you.”

“Such cheesy pick up lines don’t suit you, Mr. Lannister,” she teased, extricating herself from his arms and sitting up.

Jaime’s eyes went wide. “CHEESE!” he shouted suddenly, sitting up straight and killing the mood. “We forgot the pizza. I’m hungry,” he whined, jumping off the bed, “sex always leaves me ravenous.”

“So what next?” she asked as they sat on the bed downing their beers once they’d had their fill of dinner.

“We can do it again,” he quipped, a naughty glint appearing in his eyes, “I’m game to get down with you all night if you wish--”

“I didn’t mean that,” she said, going red again, “I mean _us._ What’s next with us?”

“Move in with me,” he implored, giving her a tender look. “Come back to King’s Landing, your job’s waiting for you, Robert will only be too happy to re-hire you.”

Disappointment burst the happy bubble she was floating in. “I can’t,” she said regretfully, tossing her empty bottle on the side-table, “dad isn’t well. He needs me here, by his side.”

Jaime lay down, pulling her back into his arms. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”

+++++

When Brienne opened her eyes, it was broad daylight. It took her a second to realize where she was, and when she did, she smiled, finding herself in Jaime’s arms as against her usual lonely bed. Groping around, she found his phone and checked the time. It was 8 a.m. Already late for work, she shook herself awake and got away from him, making her way straight to the shower, for that was the first thing she needed if she had any intention of working today.

She stood under the warm jet, allowing the water to hit her as her mind went back to the night of her life. She remembered every bit of it, every touch, each and every kiss, every nip and every bite and every little flick of his tongue, all of it still fresh in her mind as if it were minutes ago. She ran her fingers over the red marks on her chest, the stubble-burns and the recollection of how she’d acquired them getting her horny again. Unbidden, her hand slipped between her legs and she began fingering herself, thinking it was him, imagining it was his length filling her instead of her fingers, her other hand caressing her breast in exactly the same way he did.

“Missing me, wench?”

She jumped in surprise, almost slipping as she lost her balance, but he was right behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and catching her before she could fall. “That’s not fair,” she mock-complained, “lurking behind shower curtains to watch women bathe is the first sign of abnormality.”

“Not if she’s the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.” He kissed her back, sliding his hand up her ribs and palming her breast. “Give me that,” he demanded, taking the bar of soap from her and rubbing it along the length of her front, lathering her at a slow, seductive pace.

Brienne bit her lip, completely unprepared for his intervention. “Jaime, I need to finish my bath and go home. I’ve got to leave for work,” she tried to resist him, but he only made matters difficult for her.

“You can’t just leave me in the lurch,” he rasped, kissing down her back, his stubble rubbing against her and getting her all hot and bothered again. “Take the day off. Stay with me.”

“I can’t--” she began, but words failed her when his hands were all over her, leaving her helpless yet again. She decided to stop putting up a fight, closing her eyes in resignation when he touched her everywhere on the pretext of soaping her body. The scent of the soap mixed with the steamy hot water only aroused her further, though not as much as the smell of him, a heady combination of alcohol and woody-musk and a scent that was - oh, so intoxicatingly male! Once or twice, her knees buckled and she almost fell, but he was there for her, grabbing her tight and holding her close to him, his hands and mouth circling her wet skin, leaving no patch untouched, no bit of flesh un-kissed. The bath became increasingly erotic and sensual every minute, an exciting alternative to the usual cleansing routine she was accustomed to. Her hand crept to his and she guided him between her legs, leaving him to do the rest as he began torturing her mound with excruciatingly slow and rhythmic rubs.

Without warning, he let the bar of soap drop to the floor with a loud, slippery thud. Before she could figure out what he was up to, he flipped her around and shoved her against the wall, lifting her as easily as if she were a light feather. She wrapped her legs around his hips tightly, pulling him close, leaving not an inch of a gap between them. He was soon inside her, his length this time feeling like a part of her, as if he were made for her and she for him. They fit together, and they fit perfectly. They belong to each other. They were one.

He made love to her slowly this time, every stroke torturously lazy and measured, their passion simmering for a while until it boiled over as he punctuated every push and every thrust with sweet little kisses to every part of her that he could reach. He kept going until she could bear it no more, licking and kissing and touching her before eventually taking her to a prolonged, but extremely astounding climax, his last few thrusts leaving her panting in his arms and holding on to him desperately.  

“I love you, Brienne,” he whispered into her lips as his cock slackened inside her.

“I love you too,” she said, kissing him back. “Let me leave now, please. I promise, I’ll see you in the evening.”

Jaime set her down reluctantly. “Fine, meet me at 6 in the evening at the beach.”

+++++

“Hey!”

Brienne spun around, the light tap of his hand on her shoulder filling her with the familiar warmth his touch almost always evoked in her. Linking her arm in his, she walked along the length of the beach with him. They watched the sun set, each letting the presence of the other in their life sink in, and she couldn’t hide her smile, for never before had she found the sunset so romantic. Never before did she have someone this special to share it with.

“I have some news for you,” Jaime was the one to speak first after a long spell of comfortable silence.

They stopped, and she waited, wondering what lay in store for her.

“I’ve decided to resign from Westeros International,” he announced.

She was taken aback by his decision. “What? Why?”

“I want to be with you, Brienne.” He took her hand in his. “If you can’t move to King’s Landing, I’m going to move to Tarth. With you. Wherever you are, I’ll be by your side, holding your hand through every phase of life.”

She wasn’t prepared for this big a compromise on his part. “But your career--”

“I can make a career here,” he said, smiling. “That’s what I’ve been planning all day. I’m going to take up a job here, and if all goes well, within the next couple of years, I’m planning to be an entrepreneur--”

“Seriously?” she blurted out, unable to contain herself. “What’s your plan?”

“A software company,” he announced proudly, “my own start-up--” he paused “--sorry, _our_ start-up,” he corrected himself, looking fondly at her. “We could have a development wing in King’s Landing as well and invite people like Tyrion, Bronn and Sansa to join us once we gain some traction--”

“But the capital,” she interrupted him doubtfully, wondering if this was all a grand dream without any planning, “it’s an investment. Will your father be ready to advance you a loan for this big a project?”

“I’m doing it on my own,” he confessed, and she was filled with nothing but pride for him. “Given my financial backing, I’m eligible for a loan. I’m not depending on dad, though he is ready to help me with the funding on one condition.”

“What condition?” She was apprehensive, worried that Tywin Lannister might have tried to persuade Jaime to give her up as a bargain for backing his project.

“If I marry you within a year,” he mumbled, turning red, “he’s ready to fully fund my new company.”

His revelation quite the opposite of what she’d expected, she was dumbfounded by the pace at which things were moving. “Marry me?” she repeated, wanting a double confirmation.

Jaime blushed deeper, scratching his ear. “If you want to--” he fumbled for words, “--if--I mean I’d very much like to, but only if you want to.” When she continued gaping at him, he hastily tried to pacify her. “You aren’t obliged to marry me. It won’t change a thing in our relationship because I’m not going to depend on dad for anything. So, whatever you wish, I just want you to be--us to be happy--”

“I agree with your dad,” she said, smiling shyly. “I should like that very much.”

He blinked, his expression blank for a second. “You what?”

Brienne felt her cheeks grow hotter. “I meant, we could get married next year, that’d be lovely.”

His eyes were as round as saucers. “Is that a yes then?”

“It is.”

The moment she’d said this, it started raining again, going rapidly from a mild drizzle to a heavy downpour, drenching them to the skin.

“I love this!” Jaime exclaimed happily and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her slowly and deeply, and she played along, returning his affection, basking in his touch, wishing for the evening to never come to an end.

“I’ve always wanted to do this ever since I first met you,” he said, unleashing his most charming smile on her when he let her go.

Jaime Lannister was a package of surprises, once again, leaving her curious about his actions and intentions. “You wanted to do what?”

“Kiss you in the rain,” he admitted, his smile widening. “It’s the most romantic thing to do.”

And he did it again and again and again… until the evening was up and it was time to go home.

 _Home,_ she thought happily as she walked by his side, her hand in his, _home is where he is, and he is where I am..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, after a couple of months of canon obsession, I've finally brought this to a close. To everyone who has read this or is still reading this, thank you so much. You have been such an encouragement for me!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the person who I've based Jaime on isn't reading this *blushes*
> 
> For the rest of you, thank you for reading, and do share your comments :)


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